


does it have to be human (does it have to be mine)

by pigeonstatueconundrum



Series: Don't Feed the Plant! - Venom/Little Shop of Horror AU [1]
Category: Little Shop of Horrors - All Media Types, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Historical, Everyone is the opposite of their LSOH counterpart, F/M, Gender Neutral Venom Symbiote (Marvel), M/M, Mentions of War, Private Investigator Eddie Brock, Slow Burn, Symbiotes as Plant Based Organisms, Vietnam War, apart from Audrey II Venom who is just as horny and bloodthirsty, body transformation, little shop of horrors au, mild body horror, past Eddie Brock/Anne Weying - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-05 02:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonstatueconundrum/pseuds/pigeonstatueconundrum
Summary: "On the twenty first day of the month of September, in an late year of a decade not too long before our own, the human race suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its very existence. And this terrifying enemy surfaced (as such enemies often do) in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places..."Eddie Brock, Former Soldier, Former Police Officer and Former Boyfriend of the best damn lawyer in San Francisco is alone.All he has is his name above the door of his own PI firm and a case. The hunt for a lost botanists leads him on the path of something dark, something alien, something... hungry.The Little Shop of Horrors AU





	1. total eclipse of the sun (da-doo)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [derezzcartes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/derezzcartes/gifts).



> Another fic no one asked for but I'm giving it to y'all anyway. This is inspired by a comment derezzcartes made on my last Venom fic (romantic tomography) about how it reminded them of little shop of horrors. The idea was so good that, sod my lack of writing skills, i was going to write it anyway before someone better did. 
> 
> I also want to assure readers there will be no domestic abuse plot-line. If you can't tell from my previous work i have a huge soft spot for Anne/Dan which will continue in this story. 
> 
> I would be remiss if i didn't also mention the other inspiration for this; Troll 2. Yes that Troll 2.

Eddie lets the door of the office slam behind him. The entirety of the last five years of his life fits in an old orange crate, not even heavy enough to carry two handed. He’d carried heavier in the army. Pushing thoughts of war from his mind, Eddie goes about unpacking.

 

With the crate under one arm, Eddie pulls aside the flimsy paper screen that separates a third of the office. The single cot and three-legged dresser looks even more pathetic now that they are his only refuge. Eddie drops the crate onto the cot, the hard mattress barely depressing at the weight.

 

His best suit, underwear and thin white cotton t -shirts gets thrown in together into the chest of draws. Eddie didn’t bother to fold them. The brief violence it took to shove them in with the rest of his clothing felt good. He didn’t care if his clothes were wrinkled, who did he have to impress anymore? With bitter hindsight he realises he’d already started moving his things out months ago. Already knowing he was about to get him marching orders even if he’d steadfastly refused to believe it until Anne had sat him down.

 

The few books Eddie has brought he stacks in the corner under the bare unconnected water pipe. The landlord had taken away the sink from the apartment years before Eddie had set up his PI office out of it. Now he’ll have to use the facilities in the hall watercloset, his pride isn’t ready to beg Mrs Chen for the use of her sink in her shop just yet. In any case the books are likely to stay their untouched just as they had in Anne’s apartment. Eddie isn’t sure what part of him thought he would enjoy the lurid paperbacks and books of poetry, but he definitely isn’t that guy, that kind of optimism about his own mindscape belongs to that kid that used to pomade his hair just so and practise his flick knife in the mirror.

 

Eddie surveys the space. His spare gun and bullets are already locked in the desk draw. Anne was never comfortable with weapons in their home. His binoculars, camera and precious leather jacket are already here, what more could he need. Eddie takes the last item from the crate, a wilting plant and slumps down in the desk chair, the only comfortable furniture in the place.  

 

It’s dying from neglect which is a metaphor that past poetry loving Eddie would have appreciated. At first no one had been around to water it. Anne was up early and in late with her new job at the legal office and Eddie’s hours at the station were always erratic. When the SFPD let Eddie go, watering the plant was the last thing on his mind. Anne cared either, and soon she grew not to care about him as well. His unemployment had been a bad look for both of them.

 

Eddie draws himself two generous fingers from the whisky bottle already waiting on the desk. He’ll have to buy a new bottle sooner than he’d thought. He wonders if Mr Chen will want the plant as a sort of reverse housewarming. Although Eddie suspects giving a dying plant to a woman who owns a flower shop would be like selling yellow snow to Eskimos.

 

His morose revere is interrupted by childish laughter in the street. Turning his chair, he watches as three girls clatter up the fire escape of the apartment across the street. The buildings are packed in so close this side of town, Eddie can make out the makers mark of the cardboard box they are carrying between them from his office window.  Sipping his drink, Eddie watches them take turns putting their heads through the hole in the bottom of the box before looking up at the sky. Eddie puzzles this behaviour over for a moment before remembering yesterday’s newspaper. The headline ‘Unexpected Solar Eclipse, End of the World?” under Lewis Donate’s by-line.   At the time he’d thought it a little sensationalist. Now with only half a bottle of cheap whisky and a month’s rent to his name it seems he should have been paying more attention.

 

From his vantage point Eddie watches the sky darken. The noise of Mrs Chen’s radio, a background hum Eddie is so used to that only it’s absence surprises him, cuts out. Even across the street the girls have ceased their squabbling over the pinhole projector. Eddie reaches forward and slowly opens the blinds fully. The moon makes its stately progress across the sun, plunging the world into darkness. Eddie stares up at the absence, toasting the last his glass to the sky.

 

“To new beginnings.”

 

A rumble of lightning is his only reply.

 

-

_One Month Later_

Diana Waits has the sort of face you forget even as you’re looking at it. Which is fitting Eddie thinks, as she has the exact same problem as everyone else that came through his door. That’s not charitable, but Eddie is not in a charitable mood. Hangovers are not conducive to business, but neither is poverty. He forces a smile.

 

“And you last saw your husband, when?”

 

“Last Tuesday.” Mrs Waits replies, trying again to show him the picture of the smiling family she has clasped in her shaking hand. “He’s been working longer hours with his new job. He’s a botanist, Mr Brock, A damn find one.”

 

Eddie nods vigorously. Not in agreement but rather in the vain hope of getting the white spots that keep floating in his field of vision to dissipate.

 

“When he didn’t come home I went to his office at the Life Foundation, but they said he left work as normal.”

 

Eddie scrawls the words ‘life foundation’ on a pad of paper. The pen blots badly, it’s disuse making his handwriting even more unreadable. The only other thing written on the pad was a dead man’s name and address from the last case he’s worked. That was three weeks ago.

 

“Where is this?” He asks.

 

“They have offices in Rincon Hill but he said he was mostly based in Warehouse down by Clarion.” She worries her already chapped lip between her teeth, “I know you think he’s run off with some… floozy, Mr Brock, but my Michael would never.”

 

Something in that conviction tugs at Eddies attention. “What makes you so sure?”

 

Diana pauses, choosing her words with care, “He was nervous about something. More than that, he was scared.”

 

“Did your husband have any enemies?”

 

She shook her head, “No, we don’t know anybody. We moved to the city only a year ago. Michael wants to buy a farm upstate, give the kids a good life. We were saving up.”

 

Eddie adds the address to the pad. Something about the name ‘life foundation’ is familiar. There is a case here, he can feel it. Not just a take a picture collect the money and a right hook from the wronged party kind of case but a real honest to goodness _case_. The kind he doggedly chased before he was fired/quit from the police department.

 

“I can only tell you what I told the police.” Diana says, “Nothing would stop him coming home to me. Something must be wrong.”

 

“I’ll take the case.” He promises.

 

The tightness in her shoulder relaxes a little and she gives him a watery smile. Eddie ignores her thanks and gives the usual spiel about weekly retainers. He’d once have felt bad charging prices the quality of her shoes indicates she can scarcely afford. Eddie is getting regrettably close to callous as rent day approaches.

 

Despite that, he has a case. Eddie lets himself smile. Things were surely looking up for Brock Investigations.

 

-

 

Four hours and three cups of strong coffee later, Eddie is ready to hit the street. The kind of old fashioned rubber on pavement investigating he would have balked at in his police days. His calls to the few contacts that wouldn’t slam the receiver down at his greeting had revealed little. The scope and scale of the Life Foundation’s work was agreed by all to be vast. They seemed to have their fingers in every pie from Lake Merced to North Beach, even if no one could definitively say what those pies contained.

 

Eddie lit a cigarette leaning against the creeping ivy that covers the side of Chen’s Flower Emporium. Through the thick grime of the window, Eddie spots Mrs Chen. She’s listlessly rearranging the counter display. It’s the same display she’s had for the past week, although she gets so few customers that only Eddie has probably noticed that. Mrs Chen acknowledges Eddie with an incline of her head. Eddie raises his cigarette in greeting.

 

Mrs Chen has been sharing her newspaper with him since Eddie had had to cancel his own subscription. She usually has it finished by lunch and wakes him from his sleep by sliding it under the door. The crossword is always already filled out. It’s the closest thing Eddie gets to positive human contact these days.

 

Eddie takes a slow drag and surveys the street. The fire hydrant is still busted. It was already busted the day Eddie moved in, flush of excited of getting his PI licence. Sleeping on the cot that night with Anne pressed against his back had felt like the start of something good. He should had heeded the back ache he awoke with as an ill omen even then.

 

People ignore him as they walk past. They concentrate on pulling their thin coats closer hoping to preserve the last bit of warmth before they can get home after a long day. The three girls that Eddie saw the day of the solar eclipse are sitting on the stoop arguing with the grocer across the street.  Eddie still doesn’t know their names. He doubts he would have known Mrs Chen’s name unless it was written above her shop.

 

The only other person he knows is Maria, the homeless woman who sets out her blankets at the corner of fifth. She sells maps to the tourist when she can afford it and begging for change when she can’t. She’s in her customary spot now, calling out to the passers-by. Seeing her face, something clicks in Eddie’s brain. Grinding out the end of his cigarette, Eddie pulls his leather jacket closer and crosses the street.

 

“How you doing Maria?”

 

She turns and smiles up at him. Even Eddie living out of his black mould office has more than Maria, but she always has a smile for him.  “Not bad, can’t complain.”

 

_You should complain_ , Eddie thought, _I would if I was in your shoes_. “Have you been at the shelter recently?” he asks handing over a cigarette from his dwindling pack.

 

Maria lets him light the end and takes a grateful drag, “Sure, I’ve been. There was a spot Friday last. Usually Billy’s there at opening but this week he didn’t show.”

 

The little click is now as ringing like a bell, “He was the one doing those medical trials, right?”

 

Maria nods thoughtfully, “Yeah, That’s right. They were sniffing around again under the bridge looking for volunteers last night.”

 

“You think Billy went with them?” Eddie asks.

 

“I reckon so.”

 

Eddie nods, “The company they said they worked for, What did you say it was.”

 

Maria scrunches her face up in thought, “Some sort of Foundation, they were vague with the details.”

 

“The Life Foundation?” Eddie hedges.

 

Maria nods fiercely, the cigarette nearly flying out of her mouth, “Yes, that’s the one.”

 

“Thanks Maria.” Eddie finds a crumpled $5 note and hands it over.

 

“You be careful.” Maria shouts at Eddie’s retreating back.

 

Eddie waves goodbye, already pulling out his pad to recheck the address Diana Waits had given him, and not registering the unfamiliar note of worry that tinged Maria’s voice. 

 

-

 

Eddie is careful scoping out the Warehouse. He’s glad of the discretion once he spots the security cameras on the four corners of the building. Not the old clunky models you might see in the area but sleek black cased machines that almost blend into the night. Under the cover of darkness, Eddie makes a hole for himself in the fence and slips to the side of the building under a blind spot by the security entrance. From his vantage point Eddie releases the breath he was holding in when he sees no one inside the room.

 

All the keys are hanging in the cupboard, the door just flung wide open for anyone to see. Eddie pauses to inspect the the guard rota, neatly colour coded and precise as a swiss watch. Unless they were very bad at their jobs, Eddie should have been spotted by at least two perimeter guards on his way in. 

 

A walkie talkie is abandoned on the table only transmitting static. The cracks and burbles putting Eddie on edge. The rest of the contents of the table include a half-eaten corn beef sandwich, a well-thumbed Raymond Chandler novel and a knocked over mug. The remaining liquid was puddling on the floor and flowing slowly through the cracks in the linoleum. Eddie watches its inexorable path downwards towards the only door into the warehouse.

 

The walkie talkie gives a burst of static, making Eddie jump. Embarrassed, he creeps down the hall. It’s already open.

 

The Warehouse space is full of machines, huge hulking equipment that casts alien shadows across the floor. Tables full of tubes and samples of liquid block Eddies view of the rest of the room as he edges around the edge to get a better look. The only sound comes from a flickering florescent bulb as it clicks an intermittent halo over a vast computer bank taking up the whole of the east wall. Three chairs spaced out across the array of complicated switches and dials.

 

On the chair furthest from Eddie a man is slumped over, His broad back only visible to Eddie. There is no movement from the man only a trickle of red running down his wrists onto a pile of once crisp white paper that has come unspooled from the printer.

 

With the silence urging him to move, Eddie slips silently towards the figure. He has to stifle his own reaction when he finally sees.

 

The corpse is headless. A lifeless stump is propped against the panel at the mockery of life still gripping tightly around a dial. Straitening up and flinching away from the carnage Eddie forces himself to concentrate on the rest of the warehouse.

 

He’d seen his share in the war of course. But what was unspeakable over there should never be allowed to happen over here. At least that was what the Army had promised. Eddie had had doubts on that score before.

 

From his new advantage point Eddie can see the rest of the room. The rest of the walls are taken up with even more banks of monitors and desks, each in equal states of disarray. Another corpse, this one female and missing half her chest stares lifelessly at Eddie as he moves towards the centre of the room.

 

In the middle of the makeshift lab is an huge opaque glass box. Whereas the rest of the room is dark and crowded inside this space is brightly lit and empty. There are a neat row of holes on one side and another ajar door on the other. Someone had made great pains to a sterile environment for what was inside.

 

Eddie edges the door open. His fist tentative step squelches. The sole of his boot comes away coated in dark green ooze. The whole floor is flooded with it, only the half open door stopping it from making its viscous way into the main lab. The consistency is uneven. The puddle Eddie is standing in is thick and almost chunky. Against the wall with the holes the liquid is paler and thinner, already staining the glass. The only dry spot is under the table.

 

Despite the last shred of his self-preservation screaming at him, Eddie inches into the room. The lights are too bright, and those white flashes are back, dancing before his eyes. He can make out a shape on the table. He is drawn closer.

 

It’s a plant.

 

It’s an unusual plant at least. Through proximately to Mrs Chen, Eddie is aware of Flora and Fauna. But this has nothing of the neatly cut Roses and the chocking stench of Baby's-breath. This twisting wicked looking thing has more in common with what haunted him in the Vietnamese Jungle.

 

_Botanist_ , Eddie remembers, _Michael Waits_ _was a botanist_.

 

Up close Eddie can almost see the beauty in the thing. It’s a strange sprawling mass of long black leaves. The ribs and veins were so starkly pale against the dark flesh they almost look white. Tiny delicate flowers dotted the middle of the form. They were almost invisible, the petals the same pitch-black shade as the rest of the plant.

 

Eddie rubs his eyes. The harsh lighting is making his flickering vision worse, the white spots swimming in view in increasing numbers. Eddie grabs the edge of the table for support as his vision whites out for a second.

 

His fingers brush against a flower and there’s a stab of pain. Eddie is already cradling the pricked finger, looking at the dark spot of blood beading on the pad.

 

_Thorns_ , he reasons, lathing the puncture with his tongue.

 

A loud noise rends the air. Voices raised in panic echoing throughout the warehouse only seconds before their owners burst in the room. Eddie’s hands are already in the air as the barrel of three guns point at him. Despite Eddie’s obvious lack of weapons, they don’t approach the box staying within the shadows.

 

“Where is the specimen?” The centre figure orders.

 

Eddie’s heart is in his throat and does not want to risk the seconds it would take him to point out the plant behind him.

 

“This is a misunderstanding.” he says slowly, trying to edge towards the door. The sudden cacophony fills his head with ringing. The angry pale faces of the armed guards swimming before his eyes in bursts of white fire.  “I’m not here for that. I’m here for Michael Waits. I did not touch your specimen.”

 

“Where is the specimen?” the man barks again.

 

Eddie blinks incredulously, “Seriously, it’s right…” he turns to motion towards the table.

 

The empty table.

 

Eddie turns back to the guards, his assurances dying on his lips when he sees the men’s faces. Guns are slack in their hands, their attention solely focused on tracking something behind Eddie’s shoulder.  

 

His vision whites out. Shading his face from the glare with shaking hands, Eddie stares down at the floor. The shadows are a dark blessing on his tired eyes.

 

The shadows are growing.

 

The darkness blossoms down from the concrete towards the guards. Eddie is in the eye of the hurricane. The darkness soothing as his vision starts to dim. If only his ears would stop ringing.

 

From far away something in the distant light whimpers.

 

Eddie passes out.

 

-

 

The Jungle is sweltering. The thin T-shirt Eddie started the march with is so plastered to his back with sweat that he can feel every time his backpack rubs against tender skin.  

 

Eddie doesn’t even look at the faces of the men in the line before him. His sole focus is keeping the treacherous terrain steady under his tired feet.

 

The path they are following through the woods was barely visible even when they had light. Now with the darkness pressing in it’s only the footsteps of the man in front that makes the path seem possible. It gives Eddie hope the way out of this place is real.

 

**Eddie**.

 

His footsteps falter only for a second before the press of the men behind has him walking on.

 

**…Eddie**.

 

When he stops this time, he’s shoved to the side as the column of men march onward. Eddie is forced to put on a burst of speed he does not have to catch up. He looks into the darkness of the trees. In the ever-shifting darkness something in the corner of his eye smiles with too many teeth.

 

**Eddie,** It purrs again.

 

This time Eddie is already stepping aside. The faceless men behind him surge forward, his position in the pack already forgotten. Distantly he hears the thud of boots on mud grow forgotten as the darkness blooms around him.

 

“Where are you?” Eddie asks, his voice cracking from disuse. He takes another step into the treeline, another, and when he turns back he can no longer see the path. He doesn’t turn around again.

 

**Where We have always been.**

Eddie’s steps are surer now.  His footsoreness and fear forgotten he heads into the thickest mass of trees. Something brushes his parched throat.

 

**Where have You been?** It whispers against his ear.

 

Startled Eddie takes a step back. He collides with the solid trunk of a tree. He feels the trees pressing against his back, like the lost troops pushing him inexorably forward.

 

In the dark Eddie can make out something brushing against his cheek. He can smell peat, blood and something else. He leans forward tantalized by an answer on the breeze.

 

The solid mass of the tree at his back is relaxing. Eddie fells himself sinking into the velvet of its bark and makes no move to stop himself. The air shivers in delight as the tendril Eddie’s eyes still strain to see, moves inevitably towards his.

 

He gasps, taking in burning a lungful of perfumed air.  

 

**We have waited so long,** the words brush against Eddie’s lips in a wisp of longing. The tendrils brush against his nipples as they quest towards his pounding heart.

 

The scent is everywhere; The back of his trembling thighs. The tease of cool air against the shell of his ear, the glint of white slowly coming into focus in front of his widening eyes.

 

It smells of…

 

**Home, Eddie.** His lips tingles and something brushes exquisitely past his aching lips , **we are Home**.   

 

-

 

He awakes on the floor of his office. Gasping for air Eddies stumbles to his feet knocking the telephone to the floor. Convinced of a threat, he whirls around the room looking for something amiss.  The only thing wrong is him.

 

On shaking legs Eddie slowly picks his way across the room to close the door which has been left flung open. He gathers his strength and flops down onto the cot, grateful for once for its solid foundation.

 

Eddie cradles his face in his hands. He can’t remember how he got home. He feels unmoored from reality, his limbs heavy like a cut puppet. The office feels stifling against his bare chest, like he did manage to bring a part of Malaya back with him through his dream.

 

His nightmare.

 

Eddie gives himself a mental shake and forces his head up from his hands. Gripping the edge of the cot he takes a shoring breath. He’ll go back the warehouse and see what happened, there _is_ an explanation for this.

 

He lets his grip loosen. Tensing to stand and face the day, Eddie catches sight of his bare arms.

 

His veins stand out black and thick under his skin, pulsing with life. Eddie presses trembling fingers to his wrists. His pulse shivers jack-rabbit fast.  Even with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, even with the events in the warehouse, even with the lingering heat of his dream, it’s too fast.

 

The pad of his left ring finger, where he’d pricked it on the thorn back at the lab, is discoloured. Where the wound should be is a patch of inky black skin set into the whorls of his finger print. The colour runs down the length of the digit, concentrated in the joins and base of his finger.

 

Eddie springs towards the dresser, thinking of the first aid kit Anne had stowed in there years ago.  The clothes he’d carelessly thrown make opening the draw difficult. With a heave Eddie gets it open, not caring to notice his knuckles as he scraps them against the bottom of the draw. He reaches for the little white box and promptly drops it.

 

Where he’s scraped the skin of his knuckles red, five pitch-black flowers blossom. The skin knits together with only a light tingle. Eddies catches the petals as the fall from the perfected skin. They feel slick under his trembling fingers.

 

He brings them up to his face and inhales. Peat, blood and home.


	2. you’ll find a way to make your natural tendencies pay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see end notes for specific chapter notes

Lan Chen startles as Eddie enters the shop as if something is chasing him. His eyes are wild, and the collar of his shirt is already soaked in sweat. She’s shocked she didn’t hear his heavy breathing coming down the stairs even over the radio.

Without his leather jacket he looks particularly small, she can’t honestly remember a time he hadn’t been wearing it. The khaki one he’s now wearing is too big and looks like it spent years screwed up at the back of the wardrobe.

“Eddie, What’s wrong?”

Her strange neighbour blinks at her before thrusting his cupped hands towards her. One of his fingers is swaddled entirely in thick gauze making his anxious motions clumsier. Tentatively Lan draws closer. Eddie’s fingers are shaking around a handful of bruised flowers, The dark petals already dropping from the pale stems.

 “What are they?” Eddie croaks.

Lan hums in interest, “Can I?” she asks already reaching towards the most intact of the blooms. Eddie hesitates briefly before nodding. Lan lifts it towards her face, the petals warm with the remaining warmth and scent of Eddie’s hands.

The texture is unexpected. Where she’d expected velvety softness, the petals are actually rather slippery and dense for something so delicate. The stem hadn’t been cut artificially, just a thin grey tendril tapering off at the base of the bulbous receptacle.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” She admits.

Eddie seems to be unsurprised by her answer, closing his hand absently around the rest of the blooms.

“Where did you..?” she trails off at his expression, “best I not know?”

Eddie shrugs with his customary sheepish expression, “Thanks for your help anyway.”

Lan clicked her tongue, “Now I said I’d never seen anything like it, not that I wouldn’t be able to answer your question. Leave them with me and I’ll see if there’s anything in my books.

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, unclenching his hand begrudgingly.

“I’m sure I’ll find time between serving all these customers.” She rolls her eyes to encompass the empty shop. “Give.”

Eddie places the last of the blooms into an empty coffee tin with unexpected gentleness.  Lan slides the morning paper across the counter in exchange.

“Take it now.” She offers, “I didn’t finish the crossword but maybe you’ll have finished it when you come back later hmm.”

Eddie gives a dry little nod and takes it, “I’ll be back later?” he says with a nervous shuffle of his feet.

“Yes Eddie. Have a nice day.” She dismisses with another fond eye-roll. Lan picks up the coffee can and heads down the stair to her basement apartment. She doesn’t bother to turn around the Open sign.

Outside, Eddie stops to take his bearings against the side of the building. He jumps as something brushes his ear. Turning quickly, he only sees the creeping ivy reaching out towards the weak sunlight.

He was on edge and maybe going a little crazy but he still had a plan.

Craving something to do with his shaking hands, Eddie reaches into his pockets. This jacket does not contain his cigarettes, nor does it contain anything else useful like his notepad. Under whatever steam he’d made it back last night he hadn’t brought his jacket with him.

Which is another thing he is not going to worry about. Eddie gasps clenching his shaking fists. **_Breath, you need to breath_**.

Eddie takes another breath, slower this time. He has a plan. He has a plan. Nodding to himself, Eddie steps into the road. Promptly he’s flung back as a motorcycle careens into his path. Shocked at his own reflexes, Eddie barely reacts as the driver leaps from the bike.

“I’m so sorry buddy. You okay.” The apology is muffled as the man pulls off his helmet to revel as distraught handsome face. “I only passed the test last week and I’m still getting hang of the road.”

Eddie’s momentarily distracted by the bike. A brand new Ducati barely a scuff mark on the red finish. Eddie used to dream about a bike like that. In Malaya he kept two photos close to his heart, Anne at her graduation and a Ducati 65T. They stopped producing them by the time Eddie was back from overseas, but this brand-new model has the same sleek Italian design and formidable engine. Some hind-brain instinct is begging him to touch and take it for himself. **_We should have a bike like that._**

Pushing the unwanted thought away, Eddie takes the mans proffered steadying hand. Not for his own benefit, rather for the rider who seems to be having trouble getting his legs back. “It’s fine.” Eddie assures him.

The second figure on the back gets off with more grace that her companion. She takes off her helmet and it’s… Yeah, of course it’s Anne.

She looks good. Her clothes clearly saw an iron this morning and even after the bike ride down from Russian Hill she looks spotless. Eddie pulls his jacket closer around himself and tries to discreetly ascertain the level of his own hygiene.

“Hey Eddie.” She greets sparing him a tight little smile.

“Hey.”

“Eddie this is Dan.”

If possible, Dan looks even more mortified, “Again, so sorry for nearly running you over there.”

“Forget in.” Eddie tries not to snap, “Anne what are you doing here?”

Anne swallows nervously, sharing a look with Dan. Something wordlessly passes between them before Dan is getting back on the bike.

“I’ll pick you up tonight?” He asks Anne, handing over her work satchel. “I need to get to the hospital soon. Norris sounded worried on the phone.”

“I’ll see you then.” She promises.

They watch Dan’s slow progress down the street. The brakes squealing in protest much to the amusement of the three girls watching from the fire escape three stories up.

“So you replaced me with a guy who can’t even ride his own bike.” Eddie comments.

Anne crosses her arms defensively, “It’s my bike.”

“Oh.” The head of righteous anger he’s building up deflates under Anne’s unimpressed stare. 

“We’re carpooling while his car’s in the shop.”

Eddie crosses his own arms, squashing the newspaper he’s still holding with an angry crumple, “So you’re dating again?”

“Even if I did owe you an answer to that, do you really want the answer.” Anne snaps.

“Well you did say you wanted to be _friends_.” Eddie retorts.

“Jesus Eddie!” Anne swore.

At the sight of her frustration the urge to apologise pangs Eddie’s subconscious. Even with her angry and frustrated with him, it still sooths something raw inside to have her close.

“I’m sorry Anne.” He says catching her off guard, “It’s just… It’s good to see you.” He finishes lamely.

She nods letting the awkward silence lapse.

“You look well.” he adds. And she does. She’s had a haircut since he last saw her. Her long blond tresses now cut close to the side of her delicate face. The earrings are new too. Tiny pearl studs that Eddie would never have been able to afford for her even on his Police salary.

“Thanks, you look…” She pauses diplomatically taking in Eddies rumpled clothing and bandaged hand. “you look like shit.”

Her candour startles a laugh out of both of them.

“How have you been? Really.” Anne asks casually.

“You know,” Eddie hedges, “The usual.”

“Any cases?” Anne asks, slowly rolling the bag onto her shoulder.

Eddie shrugged, “cheating husband, that sort of thing. Nothing exciting.”

“Huh.” Anne murmurs, the expression on her face like a predator rounding the prosecution bench. “So nothing too strenuous, no light B&E.”

She smiles at the unconvincing innocence Eddie is trying to project, “No stealing into a private corporate research labs for example.”

“No…” Eddie lies.

Anne reaches into her bag and throws something to him with roll of her eyes. It’s his jacket. Eddie checks the pockets grateful to find everything accounted for. Apart from a giant rip down one sleeve and a strange green stain on the cuff it was prefect.

“Well you can’t blame me.” Eddie says defensively, “You never liked it when I took risks.”

“No. I didn’t like it when you took risks alone.” Anne counters.

 “Where did you find it?” he asks shrugging the garment on with delight. **_That’s much better_**.

“It was caught on a gap in the fence.” Anne says, “Do you not remember how you lost it. You barely take it off. Even in bed you would….”

“Alright,” Eddie cut her off blushing. “Why do you have it anyway, surely the police…”

He pauses as Anne bites her lip.

“You were trespassing too!”

Anne smirks a little defiant even after being caught out. “We should talk. Come grab coffee with me.”

Eddie has no other choice but to follow.

 Anne finds them a rundown anonymous little diner three blocks over. With the smell of hash browns and beef patties on the griddle, Eddie realises he’s ravenous. Anne raises an eyebrow as he sends the bored waitress off with a breakfast order that includes everything on the menu but the corn beef hash.

“Do you know this man?” Anne asks, flattening Mrs Chen’s newspaper to the right page.  Eddie studies the well posed photograph of a handsome man standing in front of an array of futuristic screens and dials.

“Carlton Drake, Life Foundation Founder and CEO.” Eddie replies. During his research the figure of Drake had been a constant roadblock. The charismatic CEO was too slippery to pin down to anything. Everyone agreed he was taking science new places, but no one knew enough to fear where those places might be. 

“He’s deep in with the scientific types down in the Bay.” Anne explains, “he wants to turn that whole valley into a billionaire’s tech paradise. Transistors, computers, space exploration, you name it, he’s involved.”

She barely pauses to let the waitress put down her black coffee and Eddie’s full plate of food. Eddie’s attention is rapt on her, mechanically inhaling food to try and fill his growling stomach.

“That last one is Drake’s baby.” Anne sips her coffee at a more dignified pace.  “And he’s got enough clout at NASA and funds coming in from his silicon production plants to make it all happen.”

“Make what happen?” Eddie asks around a mouthful of bacon.

“Space colonisation.”

“Oh God.” Eddie scoffed.

“This isn’t just the usual commune nonsense you hear from the dropouts panhandling on Haight Street.” Anne corrects, “This is the real deal.”

 Eddie shakes his head, beckoning the concerned waitress back, “Space travel’s barely there yet. How many dead dogs have we sent up there and we can’t even get a man on the moon.”

“The government is desperate to beat the Reds.” Anne’s eyes widen as she watches Eddie order a rare hamburger with another side of bacon.

“Are you sure?” she pauses her story to motion towards the cook visible behind the counter, cigarette dangerously close to the raw meat.

Eddie waves off her concern, he’s so hungry he’d eat a whole carton of Camels at this point. “You think they need Drake’s money and materials to do it.”

“And he’ll get to call the shots.”

“Exactly.”

Part of Eddie is pleased there is more to this case than he thought. It’s nice to be proved right. “Where do you come in.”

“There’s this client.” Anne says, lowering her voice, “Dora Skirth. Drake hired her straight out of Stanford. The first woman to ever graduate with first degree honours from the biology department.”

_Another missing scientist_.

“She came to us wanting to sue Drake and the Life Foundations on an ethically breach of some kind. So we set up an appointment to go over her allegations the next day.”

This story gives Eddie déjà vu, “She never showed.”

“Neighbours never saw her come home after she left our office.” Anne agrees.

The waitress set down another plate in front of Eddie, backing away quickly. The burger is still dripping an ooze of red grease. It soaks into potatoes, barely cooked in the rush to get the order out.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Anne asks as Eddie swallows half the burger in one go.

“I’m just hungry.” Eddie promises, although he’s regretting his choice now. The meat tastes chalky against his tongue and feels even worse in stomach. It tastes like **_death_**? Shivering at the morbidly unbidden thought Eddie turns back to Anne and tries to offer her a reassuring smile. 

“You think Drake had her taken out?”

Anne clutches her mug tightly, her knuckles white against the handle, “I do.”

“What did your boss say?” Eddie tries to surreptitiously lick a trickle of juice running down his wrist. His tongue briefly brushes across a vein and Eddie suppressed a shudder. Even in the safety of Anne’s orbit his pulse is still too quick.  

“He told me to drop it. There was no case. There never was.” Anne sniffs.

“You didn’t drop it.”

“I _can’t_ drop it.” Anne corrects. “She was scared Eddie. She knew the risks and yet she took them. I won’t just ignore that sacrifice because it’s convenient.”

“You don’t need to convince me.” Eddie murmurs.

Anne smiles guiltily, “I remember. I was the other side of that discussion far too many times.”

Eddie remember it too. Nights spent in circular writhing arguments about acceptable risk and reward. Waiting for the sun to rise so they could pause the fight without having to make any concessions. Eddie couldn’t forgive the fact that Anne had seemed also pleased when he had been let go from the SFPD. If she really thought he would stop endangering himself without a job that monetarily rewarded him for doing so, she really must have not known him at all.

They mutually agree not to bring that up though. If there was even a chance they could be friends once more, a truce to all hostilities wasn’t too much to ask.

“I got into her apartment.” Anne explains, “It was pretty ransacked, but she’d hidden some of her files with a downstairs neighbour. They mentioned that warehouse where I found your jacket.”

“What were they doing in there?” Eddie asks, remembering the towing machines and stench of death. The glass prison stands monument in his mind, enticing and tormenting.

“Her notes were too complicated for me to understand.” Anne admits. “I gave them to Dan to look over.”

Eddie flinches, “Do you trust him.”

“He’s a good man.” Anne bristles. “A good Doctor. He’s wasted at the morgue and he wants the challenge.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie says trying to keep the anger from his voice. His stomach is starting to cramp. “If the Life Foundation are willing to kill to keep their secrets he could be in danger.”

“He knows the risks.” Anne insists. “Why were _you_ at the warehouse?”

“My client.” He explains, “Her husband worked for the Life Foundation job and he went missing two weeks ago. She was convinced of foul play.”

Anne nods, slotting the pieces into her own parts of the puzzle, “Why didn’t you think he just left his wife.”

“I have a... friend, Maria.” He clarifies, “She sleeps rough the streets most nights. Maria heard something about the Life Foundation approaching the homeless for with offers of paid medical testing.”

Anne stifles her gasp behind her hand, checking to see they weren’t be observed, “You think those were the dead we saw.”

Eddie shakes his head, “They died operating the equipment. I doubt they let the guinea pigs play with the expensive bells and whistles.”

Anne nods, “But what were they testing on them?”

“Whatever happened went down before I got there.” Eddie says, shuddering at the memory. “whatever they were studying must have escaped and killed them all.”

“All I saw was the dead. Nothing that could have caused that much damage” Anne says softly. “Whatever it was must have been methodical to stack up the corpses like that.”

Eddie stops chewing, “ _Stack_ the corpses?”

Anne fixes him with an odd look, “Did you not see them?” She shudders delicately. “The three dead guards piled on top of each other. They had no heads Eddie.”

Eddie’s stomach, which had been roiling all morning, chose that moment to revolt. Ignoring Anne crying his name, Eddie dashed to the restroom seconds before the contents of his guts painted the inside of the toilet bowel. Even though he feels like his stomach is about the burst he’s still hungry. He lies crouched by the bowl, limbs shaking and barely enough energy to raise his head when Anne charges in.

The only other occupant of the room, a workman rapidly zipping up his coveralls, leaves the room quickly. His protestation dying under Anne’s glare.

“Eddie what’s wrong?”

She reaches for him, but concern from his perfect ex-girlfriend just then is too much to bear. He rallies his indignation and slaps her hand away.  “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” Anne insists. She tries again to rest the back of her hand on his forehead. He looks clammy and exhausted. The bags under his eyes making his face look grey and puffy. Eddie tenses again ready to push her away.

She doesn’t make a move again, occupied with staring at his neck. When no answer seems to be forth coming Eddie pushes himself from the floor and stumbles to the mirror.

The black under his skin has spread. No longer content to map his arms, the maze of veins now extends up his neck. His inhuman pulse no longer hidden as the skin at his neck visibly throbs. His reflection opens his mouth full of purple gums and smiles a razor smile.

“Eddie, What is going...?” Anne whispers.

Eddie jolts himself away from the mirror unable to meet her eye. Fumbling in his pocket he pulls out his pad of paper and a chewed pen. It takes him a few attempts to get his hand to stop cramping but he finally manages to write out Diana Waits’ address.

“That’s my client.” He says thrusting the torn stub of paper into Anne’s lax fingers. “Talk to her. Tell her I sent you.”

He pushes past her and out of the shop thinking only of getting home and hiding in his office with the rest of the bottle of whisky. He ignores Anne as she tries to follow him out the of the diner. Something is seriously wrong with him and She is the last person he wants to see him like this.

Eddie keeps his head down as he strides home. He’s convinced everyone he passes knows the truth. He can hear their voices muttering in his head. A roast chestnut seller shouts at him as Eddie nearly stumbles into his cart, flinching away at the last second.

The smell of roasted chestnuts is heaven.  

**Hungry.**

Eddie recoils as his stomach seems to have gained sentience.  The voices in in his head getting louder, demanding to be fed. Despite the whispering he carries on to his block, cringing away from everyone else on the street.

His sigh of relief on making it to his building is short lived. Mrs Chen sees him from the window and warmly bustles out the shop to intercept him, “Eddie, Where’s my newspaper?”

Eddie brushes past her concentrating on corralling his shaking legs up the fire escape stairs. “Not now Mrs Chen.”

She tugs his arm, “I need to show you something.”

“NOT NOW.”

Mrs Chen drops Eddie’s arm, violently recoiling to press against the brick wall a look of pure terror on her face.

“I’m sorry.” Eddies whispers already clattering up the stairs, “I’m so sorry Mrs Chen.”

He throws open the door onto the landing, letting his back slam it shut as he rests against it. _Why did I do that?_ Eddie rubs his eyes trying to resolve his blurry vision.  His stomach feels so empty, the overwhelming pang to consume, to feed, throbbing in time with the blood throbbing in his chest.

He needs to sleep this off. He needs to curl up on this cot and wake up once the world makes sense again. Eddie pulls his jacket closer, Anne’s perfume still lingering.

Eddie makes his way towards the office door. He’s about to open the door and try and forget this awful day when something growls.

**“Don’t open the door.”**

Ignoring this clear auditory paranoid hallucination, Eddie tries the handle. The door is unlocked. His throat dry, Eddie holds his breath and opens the door.

No one else is in the room. Eddie is about to throw himself on the bed when he sees the plant.

It’s not an exotic science plant but the abandoned Peace Lily he’d brought from Anne’s apartment. This morning it had been in need of a good water, leaving his windowsill dusty with dead petals. In the last hours since he was here it has doubled in size. The thick rubbery leaves brushing against the window pane. With the half the window obscured by the new greenery the room has become shrouded in shadow. The lustre of the remaining flower is also brighter. Eddie steps into the dark to brush the petal with his fingers. He’s so enraptured by the plant he does not notice the man spring from his hiding place until a gun is already cocked at his chest.  

“I had the devil’s own time finding you Mr Brock.” The intruder smirks, “fancy a man of your reputation holed up in a place like this.”

Eddie raises his hands. “Who sent you?”

The man laughs, “I suppose you would have pissed of enough people in your line of work for there to be confusion.”

“Carlton Drake?” Eddie asks, desperately looking around the bare room to find a weapon. His knife should be on the desk, his gun in the draw, if only he could...

The gunman notices Eddie’s roving eyes, “Looking for this?”

He pulls out Eddie’s flick knife letting the dependable blade glitter in the gloom. “Nothing personal you understand. You’re just my first stop of the day,”

**Feed Me.**

Eddie starts.

**Feed Me.**

“Stop it.” Eddie hisses.

The man’s face crinkles in confusion. “What..?”

**Feed Me Eddie.**

Eddie cradled his face and pain lances through his brain. His vision whiting about so fast he loses his footing.

**We’re Staving Eddie.**

The intruder looks freaked out, the gun wavering slightly, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Who’s there, who’s talking?” Eddie shouts, whirling around to look for the source of the voice.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you... you freak!”

Something snaps in Eddie and he launches himself at the man. They grapple on the floor, Eddie feral with the fear of survival. In the confusion the gun is clatters to the floor and is knocked out of reach.

**Yes, Yes.**

 Eddie snarls teeth bared over the neck of his prey. He catches sight of himself in the wide eyes of his quarry. He looks barely human. Pale skin covered in black veins, sharp fangs bared in victory. Overwhelmed, Eddie comes back to himself with a shudder.

**Why did you stop, He’s got a…**

The assailant drives Eddie’s own knife into his gut. The momentary distraction all he needed to press his advantage. He shoves Eddies body off of him like a ragdoll leaving him gasping for air on the floor.

The cut in deep, his shirt already soaked with blood. As his vision starts to blur Eddie tries to move, get away from the killer as he retrieves his gun. Any movements, evening breathing is agony as it pulls against the skin sliced open across his belly.  

Beyond any pain, Eddie reaches out a trembling hand to touch the wound. His hand comes away coated in blood. In the half light of the foliage his blood appears black.

It’s coming faster now bubbling over his stomach and chest. Eddie never knew he held so much inside.

His killer is standing above him now, gun pointed unwavering over his heart. He leans down over Eddie with a smirk to admire his handiwork, “Carlton Drake send his regards.”

He cocks the gun.

Eddie is at the place so removed from pain and feeling that he barely registers the tingling in his abdomen. He wastes his last ounce of strength turn his head and watch as a bouquet of flowers bloom in the bloody gash of his stomach. For the second time the gunman is confounded. He can only take step backwards as the mass of flowers grows and grows, sprouting out of every place Eddie’s blood fell.

In seconds the mass of vines and flowers is the size of a man. It rests a curious and comforting weight on Eddie’s chest. Against Eddies neck the few rivulets of blood that had travelled that far, thicken and twine around his pulse points. The dexterous vines stroke the side of his neck with five points of gentle pressure. The mass has grown so large it blocks out Eddies view of the hired gun cowering in the corner. Eddie can barely make out the individual fronds and leaves so vast has it become.

In one fluid motion It twists down to hover over Eddie’s face. Within the solid mass two eyes open. Eddie pants, seeing his own shocked face reflected in the burnished whites of its eyes.

Without conscious thought, Eddie reaches out with a hand no longer numbed with pain.  He touches creature’s face, marvelling at the tiny flowers that have sprouted from his fingers. The answering rumble of delight echoes throughout Eddie’s mind.

The flesh feels surprisingly pleasant, like foliage warmed by a summers day. He rubs his thumb across the creature’s face, marvelling at the unknown texture. The digit finds unexpected purchase within a gap in the surface. Eddie watches in dawning horror as the gap widens to reveal two rows of long wickedly sharp teeth.

Their tongue extends and keeps extending from the darkness, tasting the air with a satisfied little purr. They smile down at Eddie, a thumb-like vine gently stroking the corner of Eddie mouth.

Eddie feels his legs sink into the writhing mass of black. As one Eddie and the creature turn to observe the would-be assassin cowering on the floor.

**Now We feed.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning:  
> Main character fatal injury that is healed quickly after, but there is descriptions of blood 
> 
> if there is anything else you think i should tag, please let me know I'll be happy to edit. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.


	3. looks like you’re not happy unless I open a vein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More detailed content warnings in the description below.

It’s the work of seconds to knock the intruder to the ground. Via the inhuman lustre of the creature’s eyes Eddie observes the brief second the man has to scream. The noise dies in his throats as their teeth clamp down.  They snap the head from body with sickening crack of bone. Eddie revels in the success of a threat neutralised before the taste of viscera hits the back of his fragile human throat.

Gagging, Eddie is thrown from the creature’s body, the vines parting to let him collapse to the ground with a sob.

**You will get used to it.**

Eddie looks up incredulously at the creature. They are still connected through the vines that sprout from some invisible place in Eddie’s back. The hulking humanoid shape disintegrates into a tangled ribbon of vines with only a vague face shape discernible. 

“What are you?” Eddie whispers unable to tear his eyes away from their mouth. The lips widen, baring those awful teeth in a delighted smirk. The head draws closer and Eddie has to scuttle backwards, his escape thwarted by the side of the desk.  

 **We are Venom** , they say head drawing level with Eddie’s face, **and you are mine**.

“Fuck.” Eddie swears. Even after all he’d seen and tasted, a part of him still craves the touch, to sink his fingers into the warmth of the creature’s vegetal flesh.

“That was you who killed those scientists,” He realises, “and those guards.”

Venom reaches out a vine to stoke Eddie’s trembling knee, **You are welcome Eddie**.

“Why?”

The question confuses Venom, **They would have taken you from us. That is not** **acceptable**.

“Why me?” Eddie asks, gesturing to his veins still drawn in black ink, “What did you do to me?”

 **I am not of this planet. My kind require…hosts to survive.** Venom explains reaching out a tendril to admire the sensitive skin at Eddie’s wrists.

Eddie cradles his wrist close to his chest, much to Venom’s amusement, “So I was convenient, was that all?”

The alien pauses letting Eddie suffer in anticipation as they choose their next words. **In a manner of speaking.**

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 **We are a Symbiotic Saprotroph, like your Earth mushrooms. When bonding with carbon-based hosts, difficulties can arise. But with you,** the tongue extends savouring the miasma of fear around Eddie, **it was so easy**.

“You’re not the first to call me that.” Eddie admits. “Wait, mushrooms. I’m sharing my body with a fungus.”

The symbiote roars, sticking Eddies limbs to the desks with thick vines. **TAKE THAT BACK** , it roars.

“What, Fungus?” Eddie laughs, “You’re a toenail infection. A talkative one, but still, toenail infection.”

 **Don’t call us that**. Venom mutterers mutinously.

Eddie is torn between pride at scoring a point and sympathy for Venom’s distraught expression. “If you’re so upset why don’t you find a new host?”

**Can’t. We have plans.**

Eddie did not like the sound of that. “What sort of plans?”

 **You will like them** , Venom promises, playfully advancing on Eddie until they’re practically straddling his lap. He shivers as echoes of the symbiote’s eagerness resonates through their bond.  **They involve Carton Drake in very, very, bloody chunks.**

“I agree that Drake needs taking down.” Eddie concedes, “but no more non-consensual cannibalism, shouldn’t we leave him alive.”

 **Hmmm** , Venom contemplates, **leave him a barely alive** , **With nothing but his most vital limbs and organs. For you, Eddie, I might consider it.**

“Jesus.” Eddie hisses. “Why should I help you? Seems to me If I went to Drake and told him where his prize killing machine has gone he’d be grateful.”

Venom scoffs tapping the top of Eddie head mischievously, **Now** , **we _both_ think that’s a stupid idea.**

“Alright yeah. You’re right. But what _is_ in this for me?” Eddie asks.

You help me, I let you go free. Venom offers.

“Free with my life?” Eddie clarifies, shuddering at the memory of the headless assassin, still lying on his floor.

 **Such as it is** , the symbiote smirks.

“Fine. Then we have a deal.” He holds out his hand towards his new partner. Venom cocks their head considering. In the back of his mind, Eddie has the disturbing sensation of the alien flicking through his memories to decipher the gesture. The cluelessness is an endearing look on the fearful fungus.

A thick mass of vines takes hold of Eddie’s arm in a brief business-like shake before flowing along his body.  Eddie staggers as his centre of gravity shifts to a point beyond his shoulder blades.

 **Let’s go** , the voice murmurs into the shell of Eddie ear. 

A frantic knocking comes from the other side of the door.

“Who is that?” Eddie hisses at Venom. The symbiote emerges briefly to shrug.

 **If you had a glass door like a proper Private Investigator we could see them**.

Eddie doesn’t know how an alien that had spent barely any time on the planet had manged to gain any ideas about what PI was supposed to be like, and how he’d managed to fail at even those.  Fixing his new associate with an unimpressed stare, Eddie calls out, “Who is it?”

“Eddie, It’s me Mrs Chen. Are you okay? I thought I heard shouting.”

The door knob rattles before slowly, terrifyingly, starting to turn.

“Don’t come in!” Eddie shrieks. The headless corpse is so very very visible. “What do we do?”

Venom emerges fully, sinuously considering the problem over Eddie’s shoulder, **I mean you said you didn’t want me to eat anyone else…**

“Oh no…”

Lan is about to try the handle again, despite the panic in Eddie’s voice, when the door flings open. Eddie smiles down at her trying to block the rest of the room with his body. His expression is still a little frenzied but at least his skin is back to a more human shade. It’s a marked improvement.

“What are you doing in there?” she cranes her head around trying to get a good look inside the office.

“Nothing.” Eddie insists. The place is in a state; papers thrown everywhere, the phone fallen off the desk, the bed not made. Nothing amiss then.

Lan purses her lips and fixes Eddie with a stare of her own, “Come with me you need to see this.”

Eddie follows, “Stay hidden.” He hisses under his breath, imagining very hard at Venom, an image of Mrs Chen on a chair screaming like she’d seen a mouse. But the mouse was made of tiny vines and had a tongue the size of its tail. He feels only an echo of annoyance down their bond.

Mrs Chen lets them into the back, “You go into the shop, I’ll be with you in a second.”

She heads down the stairs into her basement apartment, almost physically pushing Eddie through the ugly floral print curtain that divides the areas. Eddie stumbles into the room and into another world.

Every plant in the room has come to luminous blooming life. The sad collection of decorative greenery is spilling over in their pots. The leaves so thick and lustrous they are almost black. The display that Eddie had seen Mrs Chen desperately try and perk up all week is now a riot of colour and style. Even from the back the scent is tantalising. Even the foul baby’s-breath isn’t so offensive. Hell, the plastic sunflowers in the box by the door look perkier.

A new note of pleasure, separate from Eddie’s own, quivers through his brain. Ignoring the warning, Venom is not content to see the room with their host’s eyes and emerges to see for themselves.

Eddie watches as the symbiote takes the whole shop in, trembling with excitement.

“Is this you?” Eddie asks, too amazed by the beauty to be angry. He runs his hand over the buckets of varied hued roses, each flush more beautiful that the last. Venom reaches out his own tendril to snag a pale purple rose, replacing the yellow one under Eddie’s fingers.

**I’m not sure.**

“How are you not sure, this must be you.” Eddie inhaled the rose’s scent. It’s perfect.

 **I’ve never done anything like this before** , Venom gestures to the mysterious minor jungle,

Footsteps are echoing up the stairs “Fix it.” Eddie hisses.

 **I don’t want to** , Venom replies, petulantly poking at the rose. Across their head small lavender petals formed.

“Well you better do something before… Hi Mrs Chan.”

Mrs Chan enters the room, an elegantly decorated plant pot held carefully in her hands. Her tentative smile drops as she steps over the threshold.

She stares round at her shop as if she’s never seen it before. He finger’s go lax and the pot goes careening towards the floor. Eddie moves inhumanly fast and catches it before it had smash on the floor.

“Th…Thank you Eddie.” She takes the pot back delicately and heads towards the counter. “What’s happened to my shop?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted to show me?” Eddie asks.

“No. I wanted you to see this.” Mrs Chen gestures to the pot. Inside a tiny green bud is poking out of the soil, the soil surrounding pitch-black. “I’ve been in my apartment since you got back this is… I have no idea.”

Eddie guided Mrs Chen onto a chair. “We’ve been having good weather.” He offers weakly.

Hearing Eddie say something so stupid and in character seems to relax Mrs Chen. She passes the plant pot to Eddie.

“Not that exciting compared to… whatever happened here.” Mrs Chen admits. “But it’s still a miracle.

Eddie feels Venom stir in interest, “No touching.” He mutters.

Mrs Chen laughs, thankfully misinterpreting, “You can touch a little, just be careful.”

The symbiote tugs at Eddie arms and he finds himself raising the pot to inhale the scent. The familiar rich iron smell sends a frisson of heat through their shared body.

 

“My mother grew Orchids.” Mrs Chen explains pointing to a tiny display cabinet holding two dusty rosettes and a sun faded photograph, “She was a rare tallent but she could never these slipper orchids to grow in America. The soil was never right, the sunlight to strong , she couldn’t get the feed right.”

 She smiles down at the fragile seeding, “But I manged to get one to grow today.”

A rabid banging on the shop window shatters the moment. Lan and Eddie look up to find the three neighbourhood girls staring at them through the glass.

“Tell him about the black goo.” The middle one shouts.

“How long have you been watching?” Eddie yells.

A smirk is shared along the line, “Oh we’re _always_ watching.”

 _That’s not terrifying at all_ , Eddie thinks as Venom bristles against his nape.

Mrs Chen waves them over, “Come in and see for yourself.”

The girls are appreciative and suitably impressed by the new growth. Eddie felt a strange sense of pride which can’t have originated from him.

“It’s those petals you gave me to look at.” Mrs Chen explains, “I still have no idea where they could be from, but their restorative properties are like nothing I’ve ever heard of.”

“Is that what happened in here.” The shortest of the girls asks poking her fingers into the decorative ferns.

Eddie really needs to learn their names.

The largest of the girls seems to be in charge. She grins at her friend, “You should try’em Chiffon, you could do with growing a bit.”

The argument is thankfully deflated by bell over the door ringing. A man in a good suit enters smiling at them all pleasantly.

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice your strange and interesting plants.” He removes his hat and gestures to the particularly vivid display of Lilies. “Wherever did you get them?”

Mrs Chan gapes, lost for words for the first time.

“Old family secret,” the head girl slides smoothly to the customer’s side, “You can’t expect Mrs Chen to divulge generations of knowledge like **that**.”

She snaps her fingers for emphasis and the other girls rally to her side. 

“But I think our results speak for themselves.” She turns to the other two, “Chiffon why don’t you show this nice man the Gardenias. Crystal you’d better make Mrs Chen a cup of tea.”

They flutter away, Chrystal taking the man by the arm, “A handsome man like yourself must have a special someone who’d appreciate a custom bouquet.”

“Why sure.” The man smiles easily swept away, “Could you split $50?”

Crystal shoots Mrs Chen a worried look over the man’s shoulder.

“No bother.” The man laughs, “I’ll get two. The mistress won’t care if she gets the same flowers as the Mrs.”

Not quite sure what he’s walked into, Eddie reaches across to Venom in his mind. The symbiote is a reassuringly baffled by the whole thing as him. Someone coughs lightly at his elbow.  Eddie turns to find the unoccupied member of the trio looking up at him expectantly.

“Hey.” Eddie says, half expecting to be given a broom and sent out to the stoop to earn his keep.

“Your lady friend was around here looking for you.” she reports. “The one with the nice bike and the nicer doctor.”

“Anne?”

“I assume so, Do I look like a singing telegram to you?” she leers.

Eddie undergoes the novel sensation of his own brain laughing at him, “What did she want?”

“She said to tell you. She’s going to see your client and that you should join her.” She pauses to look Eddie up and down, “Whatever you’re involved in she really doesn’t think it’s safe going alone.”

 **No danger of that, not from now on** , Venom promises Eddie.

“Thanks.” Eddie says, not sure who he is really replying to. Something horrible starting to dawn on him.

She’s still staring at him.

“Did you want a tip or…” He offers awkwardly.

She laughs, “Oh no you’re good Mr Brock. We’ll be seeing you.”

She gives an insolent little salute and joins the makeshift sales team. Eddie leaves the shop in a hurry letting the door slam, the horrible thought gathering enough steam to ignore social niceties.

 **What’s wrong?** Venom asks.

Eddie starts to jog towards the closest trolley stop, rechecking the address he’d given Anne as he went. “I sent Anne to the Waits’ alone.”

 **She is very capable I don’t think a hysterical widow is beyond her capabilities,** the symbiote counters.

“But a hired gun might be.” Eddie argues, “The Life Foundation knew my address. They must also know who hired me.”

Venom scoffs. **You want to play the hero.  We need to go after Drake. How does this help us?**

“I want to keep someone I love safe.” Eddie mutters drawing to the back of the line. “That’s purely selfish and not at all heroic.”

Venom laughs at him and it’s almost fond. A tiny dog runs down the street, the symbiote watches intently.

“What’s wrong with you?” Eddie mutters, drawing the confused look of the woman in front. “You literally just ate!”

 **I haven’t had a chance to try the local cuisine**. Venom says petulantly.

The arrival of the trolley couldn’t come quick enough for the woman in front who practically throws her fare at the conductor and drags her bags to the back as quickly as possible.  Eddie was about to find his own seat when the symbiote requests to keep standing. Perhaps the alien did feel like playing tourist.

“Then go down to Haight-Ashbury like the rest of the tourists.” Eddie murmurs.

 **Now Eddie,** they purr, an unsubtle tongue sneaking out of Eddies collar.  **if I wanted to _taste_ a hippie I can stay right here.**

“You stop that.” Eddie says. Apparently too loudly as he draws the ire of the young couple opposite that had been enthusiastically necking until that moment. “Sorry, not you two.”

The man only squints in suspicion before returning to his partner. Eddie busies himself with his jacket’s cuff in an obvious display of very much not watching. Venom had no such qualms.

The jacket is still split all the way down the arm. With everything else going on Eddie hadn’t really had a chance to get really upset about it but it still stung. He’d had this jacket longer of anything else in his life; the army, his girlfriend, his job, hell, even his parents.

Venom notices Eddie silence, gently worrying his subconscious for attention. **Why do humans care so much about appearance?**

Eddie worries at the popped seam, “I don’t really. Its more about associations.”

The symbiote flicks through Eddies memories. Draping the jacket over Anne’s shoulders on the way back from seeing Blue Hawaii, how she’s looked so delighted even when she’d chastised him for the corniness of the gesture. Making sure it was stored safely before he went overseas. That time he was able to smuggle crucial evidence in an embezzlement investigation hidden inside the lining.  He’d got a commendation for that, once upon a time.

**It is unusual to be in a host that puts such importance in visual memories.**

Eddie chuckles, “Welcome to the Human Race Darling.”

**Not human Eddie, You.**

Eddie’s fingers stop their fiddling with the jacket as he feels a vine twine around his questing fingers. Special attention is given to the ring finger still permanently stained with the symbioses wound. The pressure on his hand is brief before it travels up his sleeve, sealing the torn fabric as it goes. Eddie turns his head quickly to check no one else in the carriage has noticed.  Everyone else is absorbed with their own cares not at all away of the miracle that has just occurred inches from them.

“Venom I…”

 **This is our stop**. The symbiote interrupts, forcing them to jump from the moving trolley.

Even with his improved reflexes Eddie staggers, hissing with pain as his shoes hit the pavement. “A little warning next time.”

 **Eddie** , Venom stops him, **those men are watching the building**.

He turns to check out where the symbiote is indicating. Sure enough, two men are sitting in a rusted Ford, intently watching the apartment building the Waits live in.

“I see them,” Eddie confirms, “They’ll see us if we go in the front.”

 **Here** , Eddie feels a light pressure resting atop his head. Looking up he sees that the vines have coalesced into the shape of a dark black cap with a brim wide enough to obscure his face.

 **You are far too conventionally handsome** , Venom sighs, **we go in around the back**.

Eddie decides it’s best for whatever’s left of his sanity not to touch that one, however much he may want to. He follows the symbiotes instructions, walking past the spies to the next street over. At the back of the tenement Eddie realises why the Life Foundation didn’t set up guards around this side. Despite how tightly packed together the buildings are there are no fire escape stairs to climb on the Waits’ building. There are no back entrances either, the closest thing being the windows, but they start on the second floor. Diana Waits lives on the sixth floor.

**Do you trust me Eddie?**

Eddie laughs, “Do I have a choice?”

The symbiote considers, **Yes, but you did seem pretty certain you wanted to save your friend**.

“I did didn’t I.” Eddie caught sight of himself in a puddle. Although it wasn’t the himself he was expecting. The reflection shows a towering mass of dark vines with strong arms clasped nervously at their side. The eyes are fixed on Eddie, reflecting his own uncertainty back at him.

“I don’t like heights.” He admits, still not 100% sure what he’s agreeing too. The symbiote doesn’t give him time to reconsider, simply uniting their bodies into one powerful floral form.

In seconds they are leaping onto the opposite fire escape taking the stairs two at a time. They’re poised the right level staring at the Waits’ bathroom window. Their closed bathroom windows.

“Do you have a plan for…. AHH!” Venom is leaping across the gap before Eddie’s protest can register. Eddie experiences the visceral terror of falling, before he slams into the side of the building. The symbiotes feet slip slightly before the vines that make up his lower half exploit gaps in the brickwork to hold them steady.

Venom pulls back from Eddie’s upper half, leaving him to take his first gasping breath of adrenaline with his own lungs. Refusing to be tempted to look down Eddie starts knocking on the window as loudly as possible. A small freckled face peers down at him, tiny eyes widening as he takes in the sweaty man hanging off the window ledge.

The boy throws open the window, “MUM!”

Diana comes into the bathroom and screams as she sees Eddie climbing unsteadily into her apartment.

“Holy Shit. Did you climb all the way up?” her son asks bouncing with excitement. Eddie smiles weakly at Diana, leaning against the sink to get his breath back.

The rest of the household, drawn by the commotion joins them, A teenage girl and Anne bringing up the rear.

Anne rushes to his side, “Eddie, how?”

“Your apartment is being watched.” He tells Diana, brushing away Anne’s concern. They had bigger problems.

“Where?” Anne asks, striding into the living room and peeing round the curtain, the rest of the family follow at a more sedate pace.

“Brown Ford.” Eddie answers. “Two men watching the entrance.”

“Why are they watching us.” Diana asks nervously pulling her children close.

“I’m afraid you were right, your husband worked for some pretty bad people.”

Anne turns from the window, face gone pale, “The car’s empty, Eddie.”

“Does that mean they’re gone?” the daughter asks hopefully.

Eddie shook his head, “It means they’re coming up.”

The Waits’ are frozen in place, unable to move as their lives implode around them.

“You need to take the kids and get out of here.” Anne says. Her tone his firm despite the gentleness of hand she rests on Diana’s shoulder.

“But what if they see us?” Diana whispers. “There’s no way to get out without using the lift. It’s so old everyone in the building will hear it coming.”

“Hollie manages to get out without using it most nights when she goes to see Ell….” The boy comments, dodging out of his sister’s way as she tries to silence him.

“I’m going to kill you Josh.”

“No time for that.” Eddie says as Anne pushes them towards the door, “Get out alive and kill your brother later.”

“What about you.” Diana enquires, “Will you be alright?”

“ **We’ll be fine, Go**!” Venom roars through Eddie.

The Waits scurry away leaving Eddie and his secret symbiote alone with a woman who catches liars for a living.

Anne narrows her eyes at Eddie, “What happened to you Eddie?”

“You should go with them.” Eddie insists, inspecting the door.

 **Leave it** , Venom whispers, seductively transmitting their exhilaration into Eddie’s brain. The chemicals anticipation within him is overwhelming and the symbiote is driving it faster and faster throughout the chemical pathways its sunk its teeth into. Eddie runs his tongue over teeth that are suddenly feeling a little too blunt.

“I’m not leaving you on your own to face this.” Anne says, she grabs Eddie’s shoulders, forcing him to still and face her.

Whatever she sees isn’t what she wants.  “Please listen to me Eddie. You don’t have to do this. We can call the police. We’ve gone far enough.”

“It hasn’t gone far enough.” Eddie wrenches out of her grip. “What happened to wanting to make Drake pay. You always choose the best time to get cold feet Anne!”

“Don’t.” Anne begs her voice so small in maelstrom of Eddie’s rage, “We can’t go through this now.”

“When is a good time. When can you fit me into your schedule Miss Weying.” Something has burst within Eddie and even the symbiote’s concern can’t be heard over the torrent of anger inside him. In the edges of his mind Eddie can feel Venom trying to take control but it’s too late.

“You threw me out. Made me move half way across the city so we couldn’t have this discussion.” Eddie shouts, “It’s the same even now. It’s alright me risking my life until it reaches some arbitrarily point and then you want nothing to do with me. I could never win.”

“Win.” Anne gets in his face, her own going red, “What hell is wrong with you, since when is a relationship about who wins.”

She stabs a finger into Eddie’s chest, her fury so wild it overrides the animal instinct that would make lesser lifeforms flee. “You want to know why we broke up. We broke up because I was tired. Sick and Tired of your assumptions. You never asked me how I felt when you’d come home battered and bruised, when I had to spend every holiday and high day with you in a hospital. You just assumed I’d unconditionally support you because it was for the greater good.”

Anne turns away the anger draining from her, “Living with you, loving you, was a constant state of compromise, Eddie. You made me feel like a nagging bitch just because I wanted to help. I either had to keep begging you to tell me what was going on or just let you endanger yourself, so I wasn’t another roadblock in your way.”

**Apologise.**

Eddie shakes his head, unable to even look Anne in the eye **.** His righteous anger and adrenaline had come up against something stronger, Crashing itself out against Anne’s core truth. He feels hollow. Despite the numbness Eddie feels his symbiote press themselves close, rippling over every piece of covered skin. It the spaces his rage had vacated Venom fills with his own chromosomal urge to protect.

“Anne, I.”

The sound of the lift grinding it’s way upwards before clanking open with a cheery din. The sound of two sets of heavy footsteps advance slowly towards them.

“Anne,” Eddie warns, feeling the symbiote surround his body and soul. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

“I know. Drake won’t have sent amateurs.”  Anne straitens up and readies herself.

He loves her so much in that moment it overwhelms his shame. Eddie stares at her beloved face, every line a resolution. He commits it to memory. She looks at him and for a moment, he sees what she sees. The black veins under his skin, the sharpness of his teeth, the pitiless depths of his black eyes.

“No Anne.” Eddie says, and He sinks blissfully into We. “It’s worse than that.”

The first assailant doesn’t see the inside of the apartment. He falls in the doorway, spackling the entrance with viscera as Venom breaks the beating heart straight from his chest. The second sees the fate of his partner and flees with a wordless prayer. Venom is quicker. They pounce on the man open mouth dripping alien saliva and fresh blood on the terrified man’s face. 

Within Venom, Eddie finds his voice. _We need to know what Drake is planning_ , he cautions his other half. They pause to watch the man writhe and plead.

**“Tell us what Carlton Drake plans and we might let you leave with your life.”**

“They don’t tell me nothing.” The man gasps.

“ **They _don’t_ tell you _nothing_** ,” Venom repeats, “ **So that means they _do_ tell you _something_?** ”

“What? No.” the man whimpers in confusion, “I mean I don’t know anything about what Drake’s planning, I swear.”

“ **Shame.”** Venom purrs drawing out the word as their tongue stretches out to caress the thug’s cheek. “ **Your skin is only as useful as the information it contains.”**

“They gave me a number to ring.” He blurts out, “I was to ring once the job was complete. Once that was done we were all to meet Drake and he’d pay us.”

“ **The number?”** Venom demands. He releases his grip only enough to let the man fumble in his pocket for the folded piece of paper.

“ **In your final moments think how useful you have been and be thankful**.” Venom readies to strike.

“Eddie. No!”

Anne throws herself against the symbiote vainly trying to stop Venom.

“Please Eddie, You’re sick.” She pleads. “We’ll go to Dan. He’s got Doctor Skirth’s research. There must be something in there that can fix this.”

The symbiote part of Venom is still in the moment of attack, wanting nothing more than to swat this intrusion. But human shame will trump rage every time. Eddie staggers away from his prey.

 **“I can’t.”** Eddie rasps, half of his face emerging from the vines. **“Drake has to go. A lot of folks deserve to die Anne.”**

“Please.” Anne whispers.

**“I’m sorry.”**

Anne watches as the monster that was once her boyfriend leaps from the window into the twilight.  She allows herself only a brief moment to grieve before she’s up and towering over the cowering man.

“Thank you.” He whimpers.

“I didn’t do it for you.” Anne snarls. “For what it’s worth he’s right. A lot of folks _do_ deserve to die. But right now, you are the least of my problems.”

Inside the carnage of the Wait’s apartment, Anne rummages in the draws one handed. In the other she dials 911.

“Yes. I need to speak to the police.” Anne retrieves the Duct Tape, “There’s been a murder.”

An hour later Anne races into the hospital mortuary desperately looking for Dan. In the perfect world he would have been waiting for her arms open wide, already willing to stand by her side and help her solve this horrifying dilemma. Unfortunately Dan Lewis is up to his elbows in the guts of the recently deceased. She still wants to hug him and never let go.

“Anne. What’s wrong?” He strips out of his apron and gloves in record time.

“That thing in the Life Foundation Lab.” Anne pants, not waiting for her breath to catch up. She’s probably left it with her dinner, thrown up in the Waits’ bathroom. “It’s a parasite Dan. It’s vicious and bloodthirsty and it has Eddie.”

“Christ, Are you okay?” He asks.

“That doesn’t matter.” Anne snaps.

“It does to me.” Dan murmurs, his cheeks going pink, “But I am a bit biased.”

He guides her into a chair and lets her tell him a story that’s straight out of the Science Fiction Double Feature at the Balboa.

“Either It’s controlling him, or he’s still got control but has gone crazy in the process.” She explains, “I don’t like either option.”

“It doesn’t matter who’s in control now, the symbiote will always win.” Dan says.

Anne shakes her head, “What do you mean?”

Dan stares at her with dawning horror, “You didn’t get my message. I left it at the office for you?”

“I’ve been out all day.” Anne reveals stomach sinking.

“That body Norris was so cagey about.” Dan explains walking over the corpse on the slab. “It was from the Life Foundation warehouse.”

It’s the headless body Anne had only seen less than 24 hours ago. It feels like not long enough.

“I’m sorry, but whatever is using Eddie as a host used Dr Waits first.”

“That’s.” Anne points, “That’s Michael Waits?”

Dan reaches forward to squeeze her hand, “I’m sorry. We got the confirmation in the last hour.”

“How do you know that he was a host.” Anne asks, pushing down her sorrow with all the other un-examined emotions from this wretched day.

Dan pauses, “You need to see for yourself.”

He pulls away the protective sheet from the corpse’s chest cavity. Inside instead of heart and pancreas there is green ooze.

“What the hell is that?” Anne recoils.

“I finally cracked Dora Skirth’s notes.” Dan confides. “She was studying a highly advanced Saprotrophic organism.”

Anne shakes her head, too confused to verbally ask for clarification.

“It’s feeds on decomposing and dying organic matter.”

“It’s killing and consuming it’s hosts.” Anne staggers back and finds support against the cold of the slab. “They were eating Waits and then they're going to eat Eddie.”

She looks to Dan whose distraught expression mirrors her own.

“Oh my God.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings  
> death and and consummation of 2 antagonists.  
> Vicious argument between two ex lovers
> 
> The fight between Anne and Eddie was not planned, hence why this chapter took so long to come out. The more i wrote the more Anne had to say which was an interesting experience as a writer. 
> 
> I have no idea how this chapter comes across, the emotional whiplash while reading it back wasn't great so if you feel so moved please let me know what you thought. This is my first proper multi chapter fic so I'm very nervous.
> 
> Thank y'all


	4. somewhere that's green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings in the end notes

“No I’ve changed my mind I can’t do this.”

The symbiote sighs, ignoring Eddie’s protests in favour of keeping climbing up the church tower. **You have to trust that I would never hurt you**.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Eddie mutters as Venom makes a particularly treacherous jump up the side.

**I could no more hurt myself than hurt you** , Venom soothes and separates them when the ground becomes more solid. **You can open your eyes now**

 Tentatively Eddie does so. Venom has brought them to the top of Saint Maurice’s Church. It’s impressive spire shading them from sight as they settle on the roof. The only other building to rival its height being the gleaming Life Foundation Headquarters opposite. Eddie really hopes none of the tiny people on the ground look up. If they mistake him for a gargoyle Eddies pride might not recover.

“I hope Drake takes the bait.” Eddie mutters, tugging his jacket closer in the cool high breeze. “He seemed convinced on the phone that I was the hired gun.”

He transfixes on the ground for too long and can feel the vertigo digging its claws in. His panicked breath is painful in his lungs. The Symbiote manifests more fully behind him, wrapping the thick vines of his arms around him. The solid pressure is enough for Eddie’s lungs to relax, taking a long clear breath and start to enjoy the view.

Stretched out in front of them like is the Bay, the water painted in reds and golds by the setting sun. The commutators are winding their way home, the cars bejewelling the bridge in glittering lights.

Eddie feels Venom’s head press against his own, resting on his shoulder possessively. In the silence their minds are united in admiring the view.

**So that’s an ocean?** Venom asks.

Eddie turns his head a few inches until their almost touching, “Yeah that’s the Pacific.”

**I’ve never seen one before** , the symbiote admits shyly, **not up close.**

“You not have oceans on your planet?” Eddie says relaxing back.

Venom exhales sadly, **No, there is very little life on Klyntar, not like here.**

Hesitantly, they show Eddie an image of their first contact with Earth. Emerging from their crashed travel pod into the lush heat of the jungle. Through his symbiote’s memory, Eddie experiences the delight at seeing so much vibrant green life. It echoes something deep within Eddie’s memories in a past he keeps hidden deep down.

**I never knew plants could be so alive** , Venom admits in such a small voice that Eddie has to bend closer to hear.

“Why did you land in the Jungle?” Eddie asks, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t told me why you’re on Earth.”

**I didn’t mean to land there. I crashed.** Venom mutters darkly.

Eddie laughs, “Seriously.”

**I was distracted.**

“By what?” Eddie grins, nudging the symbiote with his shoulder, “Pothole in the interstellar highway. Martian Babe thumbing for a ride?”

Venom stares at him. Eddie thought he was getting better at reading Venom emotions but the symbiote looks almost sad, **It’s not important. Before I could find an acceptable host, I was captured by the Life Foundation. I didn’t see anything else outside of my prison until you came for me.**

“Once we get Drake, you’ll be able to see more than San Francisco.” Eddie says, sinking into the warmth of vines at his back to watch the sun’s slow decent.

**I’d like that.** The symbiote wraps its arms tighter around him, resting a velvet palm against Eddie’s heartbeat.

 “You can find yourself a new host that likes to travel.” Eddie says. He won’t admit it, but he’ll be sad to see the symbiote go. Even with the constant fear and fighting, having another presence in his mind has been amazing. Dreading going back to a single occupancy brain is almost too pathetic to contemplate.

Unconsciously the symbiote’s tendrils tense against Eddie’s chest. **There won’t be another host like you Eddie.**

“Oh. Why?”

Venom leans his face down to crowd against the sensitive skin at Eddie’s neck. It says something about Eddie that it’s a comfort rather than a red flag.

**Symbiosis isn’t like _this_. **

Eddie turns around to get a better look at the symbiote’s expression. Even then, their eyes won’t meet his.

**The idea of using the bond to share and experience with host isn’t encouraged.**

Eddie feels the shiver of second-hand shame. He sinks his fingers into the thick vines in comfort, “But you wanted that, even back then?”

**It wasn’t a popular opinion**. Venom admits, **the vindication is its own reward**.  

Eddie can’t help but laugh, “I’m glad you got what you wanted. I, umm, I’m glad, to have met you too.”

The symbiote’s thoughts flicker too quickly through Eddie’s mind; trepidation, want and finally resolve.  They lean forward and press their forehead tenderly to Eddie’s.

**We could stay like this. Don’t separate. Never be lonely again.**

Eddie shakes his head, “I can’t.”

Venom rears back, **Why not**?

Eddie bites his lip, “You heard what Anne said. I take too many risks without thinking through how it affects others. It’ll be so much worse when the body I’m risking isn’t solely my own.”

**I’d never let anything hurt us.** Venom promises, **what’s mine is yours and yours is mine.** **We’d keep each other safe.**

“I’m sorry. It just won’t work.” Eddie insists. He turns away from Venom staring at the Life Foundation entrance. A car had just pulled up at the entrance. The doorman sprints forward to open the passenger-side door. Carlton Drake steps out.  

“He’s here.”

Venom is silent.

“Are you ready?”

The symbiote sinks under Eddie’s skin. Forcing down their anger and disappointment into the corner of the brain that is solely theirs.  The way a symbiote is supposed to.

**Ready.**

Across town Anne flings open the door into the parking garage and stalks towards her bike. Dan follows behind juggling two helmets, the satchel full of Dora Skirth’s notes and a medical kit.

Pausing by the rack, Anne turns to Dan, “Are you sure about this?”

“According to Skirth’s notes they were doing all the dangerous experiments at the warehouse, but all the important work was being done back at headquarters.” Dan recalls, “With the warehouse crawling with cops, Drake’ll want to keep close to what they still have.”

“No, I mean are you sure you want to come with me.” Anne says not catching his eye. “I don’t want you to feel you have to be there only to protect me.”

“Of course I want to protect you,” Dan say incredulously, “Someone I care about is walking into a dangerous situation. What sort of friend would I be if I let you endanger yourself.”

“Hell,” Dan babbles, “What sort of doctor would I be if I left someone to suffer when I have the skills and knowledge to help.” He illustrates the satchel with a pat of his hand.

“I know you love him,” He admits. She finally looks up, a little crinkle between her eyebrows as she scrutinises him. “And right now, you’re the best hope he has.” He positions Anne’s helmet into her slack fingers and sits on the back of the bike.

“Dan...” She starts but the only words she can find is his name. Nodding she puts her own helmet on and jumps on. The bike screams into the rapidly approaching night.

-

Darren Boyle had been working as security guard for the Life Foundation coming on five years now. Those years of checking security passes had never prepared him for this.  He stumbles into the third-floor atrium, slipping on the bloody trail he’d been following. The flashlight in his shaking hand wheels around the room, illuminating scenes gorier that the last. He whimpers as he recognises one of the dead. Drake’s personal security team where not allowed to talk to the ordinary guards, but they were only human. Despite their oppressive dedication to their work, they still would bum smokes and commiserate over the latest 49er atrocity.

Flinching backwards at a directionless scrapping. He hits his back on the wall with a horrifying squelch.   He stifles his yelp of fear still waving his flashlight around in the hope of picking up whatever was making that noise.

A low growling panting breath parts his hair. Unable to move, Darren stares as a long thick rope like arm curls down from the ceiling and crushes the bulb of his torch effortlessly. In the dark Darren makes out two rows of teeth arranging into a smile that would grace the face of Beelzebub.

“ **Drake?”** It asks. the request rasps in a voice like broken bones.

“He… He’s” Darren gulps, “On the top floor, in his private lab.”

“ **Thank you**.” It pats him on the head.

“He’s not alone.” Darren whispers, “It’s crawling with his private guards.”

The monster uncurls from the ceiling like a nightmare, dropping to the ground in front of Darren on silent feet. He has to crane his neck to take it in as it expands to its full height. The living shadow only smiles that infernal smile.

“ **We are not alone either,”** Is the last parting shot. Darren doesn’t see it leave. He slides to the floor and does not move for the long time.

_I’ve been up the side of enough buildings for today_. Eddie argues to his brain-mate, _no more heights._

**They will be expecting the lift** , The symbiote counters.

_We tore the heads off half of his security_ , Eddie argues taking control of their body to take them towards the elevator bank. _That ship has sailed._

They stood there contemplating. **_Compromise?_**

 

Three of the men in Drake’s personal guard watch as the numbers above the right-side elevator slowly slide upwards. The last member of the team is stays by the client watching their back.

Carlton Drake looks up from the workbench and waves him away, “Go check on the others.”

“But sir, They told me to…”

Drake ignores his protestations and concentrates on pouring chemicals into the centrifuge. He inspects the bright green liquid and smiles, “I’m not in any danger, go.”

The lift reaches the top floor. Four guns train on the slowly opening doors, but it’s empty. The leader steps forward to inspect the inside of the cab before a screech of tearing metal has him whirling around.

The closed door of the lift opposite has been ripped from the wall, slamming into the men guarding the rear. A monstrous darkness leaps from the cavernous elevator shaft, landing on the ripped doors thoroughly incapacitating the two guards underneath. 

Venom considers the two remaining men who have finally turned around to locate the danger. _Not bad for a fungus._

**We are not a fungus** , the symbiote replies as he slashes the chest of the closest man before he even raise his gun to fire.

_Awww don’t be like that_ , Eddie stifles a smirk at the growl that elicits, _You_ _fearsome fungus, vicious vegetable, My murderous little mushroom._

The last of Drake’s protection demolished, they turn to the man himself. He’s alone in the middle of the lab watching them, still calmly playing with his chemicals.

With a roar they charge across the room. Inches from Drake something throws them back. A hydraulic hiss behind them has Venom slamming their fists into the glass. With the symbiote part raging in fear, it takes Eddie a moment to realise what had happened. Carlton Drake has sealed them in another glass prison.

“Is that you under my alien, Eddie Brock.” Drake asks conversationally, “It’s a surprise to see you after all these years.”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Eddie struggles to reply as the symbiote slams them again and again against the glass, incandescent with terror.

Drake doesn’t even bother to look at them, fiddling with a dial in the display in front of the cage. “I suppose you wouldn’t remember. Shame, I did so enjoy our little chats.”

The whole weight of man and symbiote has done nothing more than chip the glass, but the symbiotes rage at being locked up again is motivating it to keep going. Carlton Drake looks up at them, showing no fear at the face snarling at him with only an inch of glass separating it. He turns a dial with a satisfied little smirk and steps closer.

The sound that comes out of the hidden speakers starts as an ear-splitting shriek before growing. In seconds Eddie can feel it in every cell of their body tearing and ripping at Venom’s bonds. It only lasts a few seconds but when they come back to themselves they’re curled on the floor, the symbiotes vines wrapped around Eddie in weak patches. Eddie retches, heaving a stripe of slick tar-like blood and petals against the cool glass.  

“Yeah.” Drake squats down to their level. “They went pretty much like this back then too”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Eddie gasps, trying to wrap mental tendrils around his symbiote while the vines attempt the same physically. “All this just to get a man on the moon?”

Drake sighs as if Eddie’s disbelief in him is expect but still disappointing, “You’re a local Eddie, Do you remember last October in Haight-Ashbury? The locals got together and held a funeral for the Hippie movement.”

He laughs, “Little open coffin full of beads, cut hair and marijuana processing through the street. The unwashed masses complaining that the movement is over.”

“But do you know why they failed, Eddie” Drake insists the light of something completely loose in his eyes.

Eddie scoff, “They spent all their time dreaming about change instead of working with those who were actually fighting back?” Although Eddie can’t really talk, his own Vanguard membership lapsed about a year ago.

Drake shakes his head as if Eddie is being purposefully dense, “Why bother with that. All the chanting and marching and waving signs. The damage is already done. The efficient thing to do is to start society again.”

“On the Moon?” Eddie asks. The symbiote has been worryingly quiet. In a corner of their mind Eddie can feel them concentrating on something very hard.

 “Forget the fucking Moon!” Drake snaps, face pressed in a rictus of anger at the glass, “Forget this solar system. That thing around your brain is the key to surviving in the stars. Once I crack its genetic makeup I can create paradise away from all this.”

 “And who’ll be living in this paradise?” Eddie asks, he can feel the symbiote getting closer to its goal, they just needed more time.

“The worthy.”

“Ah.” _There we go_ , Eddie thought, _A full house of megalomania bingo._

With a fission of victory, Eddie feels the symbiote shove. The tendril that Eddie had spat out has finally reached the tiny crack they had made in the glass. It expandes suddenly, the pane shattering in deadly droplets that rain down of Carlton Drake.

Free, Venom throws themselves onto of Drake, ignoring the glass and blood already covering their preys exposed skin.

Drake just laughs in their face. He draws out a syringe full of luminous green liquid. Venom flinches away but Drake is quicker. He stabs the needle in and depresses the plunger.

Into his own neck.

Immediately his body begins twitching. His howls of pain turning into horrific shrieking laughter. Thrown off, Venom watches in horror as his skin heals, pushing out the slivers of glass leaving only grey scar tissue spider-webbing his pale glistening skin. 

“It’s a shame,” Drake says in a raspy voice emerging from behind lengthening canines, “To have to use the only batch of this, but there was no way I wasn’t going to be the first human trial.”

“ **What have you done?”** Venom asks as the whole of Drakes body expands to their height.

“This is all you my little flower.” Drake grins reaching out towards Venom with a hand that ends in long grey claws. “You didn’t make it easy to get a sample, but it was so worth it.”

Not letting Eddie reply, Venom jumps back into the fray. Swiping at Drake with their own thorny vines does nothing as Drakes smaller frame is far more agile than Venom’s. Darting forward, Drake claws at Venom’s chest. Worrying more for the soft human flesh that that reveals than their own safety, Venom’s momentary distraction is enough for Drake to throw them clear across the lab.

Venom crashes into the wall, Papers and beakers of chemicals wrecking around them. Disorientated and panicked by Drake’s slow stalk forward, both sides of their brain attempt to get up. They scrabble at the wall, claws ripping through pipes and brick before righting themselves.

Their sensitive senses pick up something pungent. A plan starts to take shape. Without needing to have Eddie explain, Venom reaches into their jacket pocket, safely protected by the symbiotes skin.

Eddie feels the symbiotes fear against his own, but also their love and protection. He sinks into the surety of it, gripping their fist tight against the tiny metal object.

Drake launches himself at the still immobile Venom with a roar of victory. In the last second, Venom leaps away clicking open and pitching the lighter behind them. Drake has a second of confusion as the tiny projectile barely registers before he goes up in flames.

Venom cowers away from the heat, as the lighter ignites the escaped gas with Drake in the centre of the fireball. An unearthly scream emerges from the conflagration, drowning out the wailing of the fire alarms.  In shock, they watch as Drake crawls out of the fire, which is rapidly consuming paper and chemicals.

The last of the flames lick along Drake’s body, burning out the claws and fangs leaving a screaming husk on the floor. The water sprinklers grate into life, dousing the room in water. The all-consuming blaze shrinks under the onslaught, Leaving nothing but a pile of slick ash behind.

Venom leaps on Drake’s heaving chest, so full of rage not even the remaining heat matters.

**“We promised ourselves.”** Venom hisses, **“That we would never forget every indignity, every pain every time you denied us our freedom, so that when this moment came we could savour it.”**

Distantly Eddie could hear shouting from the stairwell.  Ignoring it, they raise their claws over Drake’s neck with finality.

“Eddie STOP!”

They turn around to see and Anne standing in the doorway eye’s wide as she takes in the carnage around them. In the haze of water, she looks like an oil painting. A figure from myth caught in the moment of painful decision. Every line of agony, stark in the harsh light. Only Dan bringing up the rear reminds her to move, running to Venom’s side without fear.

 “Please Eddie.” She begs, “You don’t want to do this.”

“Thank you.” Drake whimpers. Three sets of eyes look down at the shivering wreak of a man with disgust.

“This isn’t for you.” Anne growls, “Eddie you can’t go through with this.”

“ **He locked us up and tortured us.** ” Venom snarls, their single entity amalgamating their two sets of issues, “ **He experimented on countless people. He killed George Waits and tried to kill you.”**

“No. That… That Thing, killed Michael Waits.” She points at Venom.

“It’s true.” Dan stands by Anne’s side, “It liquefied his organs.”

**“He was experimenting on them.”** Venom answers, but inside Eddie locates a twinge of guilt along their shared neural pathway.

“He was its host.” Dan corrects, his face full of pity, “That’s what it does to them, kills and breaks down every cell to consumable vegetable matter.”

**Don’t listen Eddie I would nev…**

“All that green ooze in the glass box,” Anne continues not seeing the inner turmoil roiling in Venom’s heart. “That’s where the missing homeless ended up, as plant food, Eddie. And you’re next.” Mindless with anger Venom leaps towards Anne. She stands her ground staring up at the monster that had stolen her friend, “Please Eddie, you have to let us help you.”

But they do not hear her.

Inside Eddie is raging, _You lied to me._

**No Eddie, please It’s not like that.** The symbiote pleads shrinking under the power of his bonded’s anger.

**So you don’t consume your host.** Eddie asks.

The pause is a damning answer.

Eddie pushes back, “Get out of me!” he roars. The scream is audible as well as physical, both the symbiote and the humans cringing away from Eddie’s scream of pain. He ignores the symbiotes pleas for explanation , ripping at his own skin as the alien writhes around his body.

The vines detach suddenly creating a mass of alien vegetation writhing on the floor. Eddie stares at the true form of his beloved symbiote and shudders.

Anne reaches for him, “Eddie we need to…”

Drake pushes her aside. In a flash he flings the contents of a flask over the symbiote. A few drops splash on Anne’s wrist, her scream in agony driving Dan to action. He cradles her hand as the skin blisters and bubbles.    

In the confusion, Drake advances on Eddie. His attention only on the symbiote who’s screams still echo in his mind, Eddie barely registers the pain between his ribs until he looks down and sees the shard of glass sticking out of his chest.

Eddie is so surprised he doesn’t even scream. His body crumples to the floor finally drawing Anne and Dan’s attention. Anne launches herself at Drake, her own injury forgotten. She slams him into the ground with a ferocity that surprises them both. Not even checking to see if he still lives she crawls over to Eddie.

Eddie can hear her crying his name, but it registers in some place far away. He watches as he and symbiote lie side by side, twitching into immobility on the floor. He forces his spasming finger’s forward, using the last of his strength to brush against the dying vines. The symbiote grips his fingers with desperate strength, sluggishly flowing over his wrists and arms before sinking for the last time under his skin.

Despite it all Eddie is glad to feel whole even for a brief moment.

 

**I healed your lungs,** a tiny voice admits **,** their presence tenacious against Eddie’s fading mind.

 

_What?_ Eddie asks, having trouble holding onto any thoughts.

 

**I never wanted to hurt you Eddie,** the symbiote promises, **You had tar coating the inside of your lungs and it made it hard for you to breath up high. I wanted you to not be scared, so I fixed it.**

 

**I don’t understand** , He concentrates harder, his vision is slowly clearing. Across his chest he can see the rest of the symbiote lying on his chest.

 

**I never would have liquified you**. The symbiote promises, stroking a burning tendril against his cheek. **You’re the only reason I’m here.**

_I don’t understand_ , His breath is coming quicker now, and he can just about hear someone sobbing from very far away.

 

**They sent me away from my home. They said if I was so desperate to find a host I should go out into the stars and see there is nothing but weak organics ready to be subjugated there.** Eddie watches as thick purple petals sprout along the damaged symbiote.   **I was flying too close to your sun and I felt you Eddie. I don’t know how but I knew you were so alone like me.**

 

“ _total eclipse of the sun.”_ Eddie whispers and he feels puff of air as the words struggle from his lips.

 

He dimly recalls that day. his last argument with Anne, the half empty orange crate and the bottle of whisky. Eddie remembers staring into the sun, aching to feel close to something, even an indifferent ball of gas millions of years away. He’d awoken with the worst hangover of his life and white spots, that never really cleared up, dancing before his eyes.  

 

**Eddie, I don’t know how you make me feel complete like this.** The symbiote whispers, voice growing faint, **and I wanted to find out but now I never will.**

 

_Find a new host._ Eddie orders, _just because I’m dying doesn’t mean you should._

Eddie feels the ache of fondness, **It’s too late for me. This is better. I’ll always be a part of you now. Forever yours.**

 

What do you…?

 

**Goodbye Eddie.**

 

Eddie sits up his lungs screaming for air. Above him, Dan stops the compressions and checks his heart-rate, “You’re okay now Eddie, just breath.”

 

Eddie ignore that that, “Venom.”

 

He sinks his fingers into the petals that line his chest. His fingers only touch the raw healed skin across his heart. “No, No. Where are they?”

 

Anne crouches by his side and gently tests the heat of his forehead of the back of her hand. “Who Eddie, the alien?”

 

“Venom.” Eddie breaths, an answer and a prayer. His mind is so empty with nothing but his own fear to fill it.

 

“What was left of it sunk into your chest,” Dan explains, “We couldn’t stop it.”

 

“They healed me. Venom never wanted to kill me.”

 

Anne looks even more concerned but softens her voice, “We saw what happened to its victims, Eddie. It may have lied to you and….”

 

“They never lied.” Eddie shouts, He fumbles open his shirt and points to Dan, “Check my breathing, Venom took twenty years of smoke damage off my lungs just because he…” He pauses overwhelmed with the truth.

 

“Because of what?”

 

“Because he loved me.”

 

The last of the petals swirl forgotten in the carnage.  In the silence Eddie realised Venom had been wrong. Eddie Brock had never felt true loneliness until this moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning,  
> main character death (NOT PERMANENT) 
> 
> This story will have a happy ending, do not fret. The next chapter will be the epilogue and the footnotes. Hopefully i can get it up soon.
> 
> let me know if you have any comments or complaints. I prefer writing verbal fights rather than physical ones so i hope it was good. I was supposed to moving this weekend but that fell through, so all your lovely comments have been an amazing distraction. xxx


	5. subsequent to the events you have just witnessed

Eddie remembers very little of the rest of that night. He remembers sitting in the back of an ambulance as Dan tells surprisingly creative lies about Eddie’s state of health to the incredulous EMT. He remembers Anne shouting at a lot of people, but he wasn’t’ one of them so he hadn’t cared. He must have been vaguely convincing because Anne eventually gives him a lift back to the office with an order to ring her in the morning. He would have ignored her and spent another twenty-four hours in bed if Mrs Chen hadn’t broken down the door to his office.

Using a ruthless combination of shame, stubbornness and the threat of setting the girls on him, Mrs Chen, Lan she insists, has him downstairs in her apartment with a mug of strong tea and a wilting Anemone at his elbow. He busies his hands with the blossoms as he lets Anne tell him about her case against the Life Foundation.  She’s not precisely leading the case rather directing the snowballing legal fury into the path of those who dare stand against her.

Eddie can’t really be angry at her, or even at Dan, who he can hear in the background adding helpful comments. They both seem to understand the enormity of what Eddie has lost better than he does. In the hurricane of grief, lingering anger and confusion, Eddie can only feel numb. It helps though, to hear Anne’s voice alive with passion for a cause she doggedly believes in. Especially if that cause also means keeping him safe once again.

He finds himself agreeing to come into Anne’s office and give a statement. Not the truth, obviously, but _a_ statement. Stranger still, Eddie also finds himself agreeing to go in to see Dan at the hospital to get checked out. It could have been the three-pronged attack from the people still in his life who bizarrely still care for him. It could be that any human contact in this state was the sensible thing to do. Eddie knows it’s neither of those reasons.

Mrs Chen nods when she hears this decision. She doesn’t know the truth and never presses for it. She simply drags him upstairs to the shop and sets him up on a stool by the counter.  And that’s all he really does for the next week. Even with the secret source of the shop’s growth gone, customers still flock to Mrs Chen’s. In his numb state Eddie can only lean on the counter and watch, waiting for the greenery to droop and the petals to fall, but it never happens. After the third day Eddie can see the blooms are only getting brighter and more vibrant. After that it’s very hard to stay morose in the face of such beauty.

Crystal brings him a near constant supply of cups of tea seemingly knowing the exact moment he puts down the last one. She’s happy to chatter inconsequentially about anything, engaging anyone in her orbit into conversation by sheer strength of personality.  Despite Eddie’s best efforts he’s dragged into talking to Jefferson Cole about the army.  Jefferson owns the butchers across the street and used to be the shop’s sole regular customer. Recognising Eddie as a fellow soldier gives Jefferson the opening to blather on about his own experiences in the Pacific Theatre with a little too much enthusiasm. Crystal finally takes pity on Eddie and leads the old man away to gather up his weekly bouquet for his wife, although this pity does not extend to protecting Eddie from any other customer that want to strike up conversation.

Eddie is struck frequently throughout the week at how little he knows of his neighbours, but more so much how much they know about him. It seems he’s managed to create a reputation in the neighbourhood for being spotted in odd alleys at even odder hours of the night. He’s a little proud of this reputation, although he’s a little embarrassed to have to keep explaining that he’s a private eye who works upstairs. Inevitably the following question is why he isn’t upstairs working now, and Eddie doesn’t have an answer for that. Although a little social awkwardness is preferable to discovering that Chiffon is telling people he’s the flower shop’s security guard.

Chiffon doesn’t share Crystal’s subtle approach to dealing with a mopey PI and thinks he should be kept busy. She’s blunt about it, despite Eddie trying to beg off, saying that he’ll enjoy having things to do. She’s not exactly correct but Eddie’s already sick of sitting around by Wednesday and he’s not really in any state to take any new cases.

Chiffon seems to have appointed herself Head of Sales and has made it her duty to upsell and work every last cent from the customers. Eddie finds himself dragged into her double act, agreeing with her about how _beautiful_ the flowers were, how the chrysanthemums _would_ brighten a casket, how he was _sure_ Betty would love them. He suffers through variations of ‘do you come with the flowers’ with what he thinks is saintly patience. This is especially bad from Chiffon’s endlessly rotating girlfriends who, recognising Eddie as a fellow foot soldier the same way Jefferson Cole did, and keep inviting him out to Suzy-Q or the Jumpin' Frog for drinks and ill-defined company. If the idea of socialising outside of his leafy bubble was scary enough, everything in him rebelled at the idea of that sort of company.  Eddie feels ruined for anyone else.

He can’t help feeling a little concerned though. San Francisco _is_ the gay capital of America, and Eddie did his very best to help earn that title in his youth, but caution is still advised especially when Mrs Chen doesn’t actually employ any of them. When Eddie brings this up to Chiffon she only laughs.

“She loves lesbians.” She declares, “it’s a change from seeing your depressed bisexual ass every day.”

Sometimes it’s too overwhelming. The memory of seeing the beauty of the shop that first morning in that perfect private moment, clashing against the reality of crowds of customers trampling around prodding the flowers. He’s not _really_ security but he still feels a sense of protection towards the plants. When he feels like that, Ronette, whose name he made a point to learn this time, will drag him behind the shop for a smoke break. The only problem is that with newly healed lungs, Eddie can no longer light up without coughing like a teenager. Ronette is far from sympathetic, happy to laugh openly in his face as Eddie nearly hacks up a new lung. Despite his bodies obvious distaste, Eddie’s brain is slower to catch up and he still finds himself buying packs automatically. When Ronette discovers this, she is ruthless in extracting cigarettes from him. He becomes her go-to dispenser of amusement and free cigarettes.

Lan is better at spotting when it’s getting too much. She gently takes him to her flat and sits him down among the sickly and infant plants. In spite of Eddie’s protestations that he has no idea what to do with them. It’s nice though, to trail his fingers over the soft velvet of their leaves, feel the promise of life in their tightly furled buds. The plants don’t seem to mind his inexperience. By Saturday Eddie has a collection of flower refugees, his own office looking like an extension of the store during the brief moments he spends there.

Sunday morning dawns and it’s nice to awaken to the sight of sunlight filtered through dark leaves, even for the brief moment it takes for reality to reassert itself.  It’s also the day he’d agreed to see Dan for a check-up. Dan is efficient and friendly in a way that screams _this is not awkward_ which, naturally, makes it more so. Nevertheless, they muddle through the barrage of tests. If Eddie’s tiny hopeful notion is dashed by the results then that’s not Dan’s fault.

It’s not anyone’s fault really. 

It’s nicer than Eddie thought to actually talk to someone that knew what really happened that night. Dan is genuinely interested, for both his own curiosity and for Eddie’s sake. Eddie has a horrible realisation that Dr Dan is that nice of a guy. Which, yeah, makes a horrible amount of sense.  Only Anne would finally sling Eddie and hit the jackpot only weeks later.

In that pensive mood, Eddie finds himself following Dan onto the trolley, lulled into easy conversation. He only really starts to question it as he’s standing in the doorway of Anne’s apartment, his jacket hung up and the smell of meatloaf in the air. Anne is smiling at him from the kitchen, looking a picture-perfect Mary Tyler Moore in her capris and soft sweater. Eddie can’t help but laugh at how easily he’s been manipulated and how little he cares. He’s just so happy to see her. The illusion is ruined when the smell of burning wafts from the oven and everyone has to scramble to rescue lunch.

The Meatloaf is a little charred and the vegetables are basically briquettes, but Eddie has eaten enough of Anne’s food, and so it seems has Dan. Both men share a look behind Anne’s back when she threatens to serve deserts. Luckily the fudge cake is store bought and not the Baked Alaska Anne had once attempted to serve three years back.

“How are you doing Eddie?” Anne asks.

And that’s the question really. He’d been expecting this the moment he’d sat down. Eddie’s not stupid or has a low enough opinion of his own importance to Anne, not anymore. She’d punched a CEO for him after all. He’s seen the books on grief counselling hidden in her book shelf, the very gentle way she hasn’t brought up the events all through the meal. This is how Anne fixes things and Eddie’s too worn down by her methods to be angry these days.

“Not bad.” Eddie hedges, as honestly as he can bare, “Mrs Chen has me helping with the shop, it’s been… nice I suppose.”

“Thinking of becoming a full-time florist.” Dan smiles, no judgement in his voice,

 Eddie scratches his cheek distractedly, “Nah, I like being a PI. I like helping people.”

“That’s good.” Anne comments, “So, I had an idea.”

Eddie laughs.

“What!” Anne says affronted, “you don’t have to say yes.”

“Go one.” Eddie allows.

“Johnson is finally letting me take on more cases. Trying to bury me under more work so I’ll quit is more likely but,” she waves her hand dismissively, “There’s a lot of leg work; serving summons, going through the public records, pounding the pavement. We could do with a freelance investigator.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “You just plucked a name out of the phone book, huh.”

“I just thought I’d offer.” Anne sighs.

The polite if firm refusal is on the tip of his tongue before Eddie reconsiders. What did he have to left lose. His pride had lost him the two best relationships he’d ever had. It would be in character to spoil the friendship they’d salvaged too sure but Eddie can’t face that.

Eddie thinks of the week he’d spent in the thick of the comings and goings neighbourhood. People he’d never bothered to learn the names of, even though he’d worked in the Tenderloin for nearly five years, who had spoken to him and cared about his opinion on the shop’s wares. It wasn’t his stubborn self-reliance that had gotten him out of his funk and it looked unlikely that it would fix his broken heart.

“I’ll think about it.” He offers to Anne whose returning brilliant smile makes it almost worth it. “You’re not offering it to me because my alien boyfriend is dead, right?”

As soon as the ill-advised joke is out of Eddie’s mouth, Anne turns to Dan with wide eyes. It takes Eddie far too long to parse the many layers of trouble he’d just uncovered.

“Huh,” Dan muses concentration on his cake, “I didn’t realise Venom was female.”

“I think they were more a gender-neutral entity. “Eddie replies watching Anne slowly un-tense in the corner of his eye.

“Oh, I don’t know why, I always assumed female.” Dan says a little shamefaced.

Anne laughs at him, “Seriously, Dan.”

He chuckles weakly, “I know, sorry.”

“That is horrifically male of you.” Anne chides but she’s still laughing.

“Curse this straight male privilege,” Dan’s face is deadpan but his eye’s dance at Anne’s delight, even at his expense. “When will it stop being such a hindrance!”

“You could start by doing the dishes?” Anne requests holding out her plate.

“And I suppose you’ll want me scrubbing the kitchen in a pinny next.” Dan teases, already stacking the desert plates.

“That’s all on you man.” Eddie grins, finally relaxing into the couch.

Anne’s smile doesn’t fade as she watches Dan, who is happily getting to work soaking the roasting pan she’d barbecued. She fixes Eddie with a quelling look when she spots Eddie smirking at her.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.”

The garage is still as disorganised as it was before Eddie moved out. Rusted tools left behind by the previous occupants gathering dust on the shelves. Half empty paint cans from the one disastrous attempt he and Anne had tried to paint the hall and ended up not speaking to each other for a whole week. Now the garage is also crammed with two bikes. The first, Anne’s gorgeous Ducati, which Eddie greets with a friendly pat on its chassis. The other is an old Yamaha with half its engine in pieces on the wonky worktable.

“Dan and I are fixing it up.” Anne explains motioning to the Yamaha.

“You know,” Eddie offers, inspecting the Ducati’s headlamp, “If you actually asked him out you wouldn’t have to think up ridiculous projects like fighting a multi-national corporation and fixing bikes, so you could spend time together.”

“Oh Ha Ha.” Anne mocks, but she isn’t denying it. “So… you know you asked if I was only giving you work because I killed your alien boyfriend?”

“Yes…” Eddie says slowly.

“Do you want my bike?”

Eddie stares.

“The truth is, I kind out bought it when we broke up, not in the best headspace.” Anne admits, “Sort of like, _I don’t need him and to prove it to myself I’ll buy the bike he always wanted_.”

Anne sighs a little shamefaced and Eddie can’t help the wash of fondness.

“It was a whole thing, I punched a window, Dan had to fix my hand... Anyway,” Anne waves vaguely, “But in the end the Ducati’s not a great fit for me.”

“You want something more reliable.” Eddie suggests.

Anne shrugs and nods towards the Yamaha. “Yeah.”

“More stable.”

“Sure.”

“Something that won’t make a mess of your life and doesn’t put you in danger.” Eddie says.

Anne pulls him into a hug. Surprised, Eddie can only stand stock still as she squeezes him. Finally, he relaxes and goes with it. It helps loosen the constant knot in his chest, not fully, but it’s enough for now.

“I’m so sorry Eddie.” Anne murmurs.

“It’s okay.” Eddie lies.

“I wish you’d both had a chance.” Anne says, sniffing into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie clutches her tight. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Plenty of aliens in the stars?” she snuffles, her eyes wet.

Eddie shakes his head, “From what Venom told me of his planet, I hope not. Venom was truly special.”

“You’re special too.” Anne promises. She leans over and kisses Eddie’s cheek. For a second Eddie revels in her scent, the nostalgia of her shampoo is enough even if the new perfume she’s wearing is a reminder she’s moved on.

He waves goodbye to Anne and Dan, watching him from the warmth of the kitchen window.  Eddie kicks the bike into gear and heads off into the night.

He drives the streets aimlessly. Anne’s the sensible sort who fills up the gas tank of a bike before she gifts it, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about planning a destination. He criss-crosses the city as aimlessly and as fast as the afternoon traffic will allow. He drives for hours revelling in the speed and letting the adrenaline fill his mind until there is no room for anything but the pure rush. He crosses the Golden Gate bridge, weaving in and out of the commuters with the ease thanks to the motorbike’s exquisite engine.

Eddie finds himself following the headland as the sun starts to set. He stops then, parking the bike and walking unsteadily out the edge of the cliff. Eddie was driven out here with the vague idea of star gazing, but even as he tries he realises his heart really isn’t in it. The autumn sunlight is still to strong and even then, the light pollution from the city would make seeing anything brighter than the moon impossible.

He sinks his fingers into the tough sea grass and contemplates the city instead. Eddie hasn’t seen San Francisco like this since he and Anne had stolen her dad’s car and taken it on a joyride. He finds himself picking out the bits of the city he knows. Anne’s apartment in Russia Hill, shining high above the rest of the districts. The Zoo he can just about make out, where he’d taken Anne for their first date. Other places in their shared history bright in his memory but barely visible from this far away. He slides his eyes away from the Life Foundation building, despite it dominating the bay skyline. The permanently dark top floor is too painful to contemplate.

Eddie stares at the Tenderloin the most. His Home. In the approaching gloom he has no hope of seeing it from here, but he knows it’s there, waiting for him.  He sinks his fingers deeper into the earth and lets out the breath he feels like he’s been holding since that night.

There’s that tiny part of Eddie, that part that bought those poetry books, that came up here for narrative closure. It should be up here with the salt air stinging his eyes where he casts of his broken heart and resolves to bravely live and love again.  He’ll look up to sky and smile a wan smile and promise to not let Venom’s sacrifice be in vain.

But Eddie is not Patient or Kind or Selfless. Outside of the numbness he would give anything to feel whole again. He can’t be grateful for that brief time, can’t be happy with only memories when all of it is tainted by the brain deep ache of loss.

Nothing miraculous happens. Eddie waits an hour until it’s too cold and too dark to see the roiling waters. He wraps his leather jacket around himself and attempts to get the feeling back into his extremities as he walks back to the bike.

If Mrs Chen can see his eyes are still red she’s too good to comment. Lan opens her back door and smiles at Eddie’s new wheels.

“You better hide that from Ronette.” She says. “She’ll be wanting lessons.”

“It’s Anne’s.” Eddie admits, parking in under the fire escape stairs, “I suppose she won’t mind me letting Ronnie have a look.”

“You’re too good Eddie.” Lan says pulling Eddie into an unexpected hug.

This second display of human contact is nearing Eddie’s limit. He pats Mrs Chen on the arm and tries to smile reassuringly.

“You’ll be alright.” Mrs Chen insists, “You’re looking better already.

Eddie laughs. He’s tired form the emotional toil of the day, exhausted from all the riding around the city and still hasn’t been paid from his last case. “Alright Mrs Chen.”

She smacks him on the arm, “Don’t you laugh at me Edward Brock. I say you look better and you do.”

“I’m…I’m trying.” Eddie offers.

“You saved the city and more importantly my shop.” Lan smiles, “You’ve made some very stubborn plants thrive. And look, you even fixed your jacket.”

Eddie looks at where Mrs Chen is pointing. Sure, enough the sleeve ripped at the warehouse is still held together, good as new. Something niggles in the back of Eddie’s mind.

“You did a good job too.” Mrs Chen continues inspecting the work, “I can’t see the stiches at all.” 

Eddie clutches his arm. He turns to Lan with the widest smile she’d ever seen on his face.

“I’ve got to go.” He leans down and presses a uncharacteristic kiss to her cheek before bolting up the stairs.

Eddie slams the door of the office, already ripping his jacket off. He kneels and feels the once tattered sleeve with trembling fingers. His heart sinks when he can feel no noticeable change in the texture of the leather by touch. But in his mind, he feels it. Perhaps he wouldn’t have been able sense the tiny shiver of awareness unless he was already so attuned to its absence.

Trusting in that extrasensory perception, Eddie eases the edges of the vegetation from the sleeve. Eddie kicks the fabric away as he draws his knees up to his chest to better cradle the tiny ribbon of symbiote that had miraculously survived.

He presses them close to his chest, urging with the racing of his heart and the howling in his brain for Venom to come back. Apart from that sliver of awareness there is nothing.

“Come on love.” Eddie whispers, “What do you need? Tell me what you need.”

He desperately tries to recall their first bonding; The warehouse tomb, the inverted predator and prey, the glass coffin which Eddie had somehow breathed new life into. A quiver of motion startles Eddie’s attention. The brief pressure on his ring ringer could be the last ravings of a desperate man but they give him an idea.

One handed Eddie extracts his knife from his jacket. Eddie considers the sharp blade in the glow of the street lamps. If he was anyone else the action he was about to take would have given him pause, but not Eddie. He isn’t doing this just for them, he’s doing it for _them_.

The pain against his palm flares as Eddie draws the blade across his palm. Eddie’s heart leaps perversely at the sight of his own blood, blacker than a humans should be. Eddie squeezes the symbiote into his bloodied fist as gently as he can.

“Come on baby, grow for me.” Eddie says his palm throbbing with a dull ache.

In the brief seconds, Eddie despairs. The dull throb in his heart now repeating _too late, too late_.

Eddie opens his fingers and watches in shock as a lone blood blacked petal falls from his lax fingers. Another three fell before Eddie is able to convince himself that the symbiote is growing, the tiny dying sapling thickening to a snake-like lush vine. Eddie raises his Venom level to his forehead, as close as skin and bone can their minds can be right now.

Two white eyes open and Eddie feels like he’s breathing for the first time in weeks.

“ **Eddie?”**

“I’m here, you’re alive.” Eddie promises.

Weakly, Venom reaches out a weak tendril to touch Eddie’s wet cheek, **“How did you do this?”**

“You left a piece of yourself on my jacket. Eddie explains.

 **“That should not be possible.”** The symbiote says, **“without a host or even an incomplete conscience to connect to, I perish. It’s not possible?”**

Eddie laughs, eyes stinging, “I don’t care how it happened. I’m just so glad to have you back. When we re-bond we’ll have plenty of time to work it out.”

 **“You want to bond with me?”** Venom asks in a small voice.

Eddie’s brow furrows, “Of course I do.”

 **“You didn’t want to before?”** Venom says, trailing a sad vine over his wounded palm.

“I was wrong.” Eddie admits staring into the symbiote’s eyes, “I was so wrong. But if you don’t…”

The very idea that he could go through all this and Venom not wanting to whole again is a worse pain than separation.

**“It’s all I ever wanted.”**

Eddie breaths out, his fear assuaged. The tendril passes over his cheek again, gathering the tears against their skin.

“ **I felt you in my atoms before I even met you.”** Venom confesses, **“I entered your galaxy and you overwhelmed me. Even as a genetically perfect host I don’t understand how you were able to do that.** ”

Eddie recalls Drake’s strange mocking back at the Life Foundation. “There are things I don’t think about. Memories of the war that I just keep locked away at the back of my brain. Did you see any of it while we were...?”

The symbiote gave a purr of confusion,

“I always thought I was broken. That something so unspeakable happened overseas that made me like this.”

Venom drew closer pressing the perfect warmth against Eddie’s cheek.

“Perhaps something was done to me. Something I can’t remember that made me so angry and willing to destroy everything I love.” Eddie says.

 **“You didn’t destroy me Eddie.”** Venom argues, **“I would never let you”**

“You’d still want me.” Eddie whispers, “Even after you’ve seen my brain. Even after the way I treated you.”

 **“I eat people.”** Venom offers, **“It’s a fair trade.”**

Eddie is so shocked it takes him a moment to realise the symbiote, _his_ symbiote, is joking. “I realised something, something strange”

 **“What’s that Eddie.”** Venom purrs, winding closer to Eddie’s lips.

“You’re the one thing I won’t risk.” Eddie murmurs, fitting their foreheads together, “but at the same time I’d risk everything for you.”

 **“That’s not so strange.”** Venom says, winding a vine into Eddie’s healing palm.

At Eddie’s confusion the symbiote smiles, leaning close to share the same air before letting their lips and mind press together finally as one. **I feel the same way.**

Bellow them, Lan Chen is interrupted from counting the days takings as something soft brushes her cheek. Startled, she looks up to sees a host of black petals drifting down from the ceiling. In seconds the floor is carpeted with dark flowers dancing in the invisible air currents. With trembling fingers, she plucks one of the petals from the air and considers the ceiling.

The muffled laugh of her neighbour sets off another flurry of falling petals. Lan gathers a handful of petals into the empty coffee tin. Eddie won’t notice a few missing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I finished this beast and I finally exchanged contracts for my new flat. If that’s not a good omen I don’t know what is.
> 
> Chief thanks again to [derezzcartes ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/derezzcartes)who inspired this story with a comment on [romantic tomography](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348394). (Check that out if you haven’t)
> 
> Also thanks to [Warbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warbles/pseuds/Warbles) who came up with the name Lan for Mrs Chen. Read her fic [House Hunters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16280903/chapters/38074508), it has the best goblin cat ever. 
> 
> This fic was inspired by Little Shop of Horrors, an amazing film, play, musical and film again. An amazing experience (and charades answer). The Venom characters where so fun to put into this world especially as they are nothing like their LSoH counterparts. 
> 
> The fic and chapter titles are from lyrics from the musical which you better believe was on repeat while I was writing this. The characters of Ronette, Crystal and Chiffon are also taken from the musical because there was no way my favourite funky Greek chorus was not going in this.
> 
> The other inspiration was Troll 2, the best worst film ever made. I whole heartedly recommend it as a pallet cleanser this festive season. The symbiote’s method of consuming their hosts was taken from Troll 2 and is much sillier on film. I also stole the most iconic line.
> 
> Researching this was a lot of fun. I’ve confused the Youtube algorithm so much it’s still trying to recommend videos of 1960’s trolley cars and black and white footage of San Francisco. I wish I’d been able to put in all the information I found about LGBT+ history in the city. But maybe in a sequel. I’ll have to see if there is any interest. 
> 
> Most importantly thank you to everyone who subscribed, bookmarked and commented. All your feedback has been amazing and inspired me to finish a multi-chapter for the first time. Thank you so much. Please let me know what you thought and if you’d be interested in my playing around in this sand pit (soil pit?).
> 
> PSC xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy, please leave comments if you feel so moved. I'm overwhelmed by the wonderful feedback I've felt in this fandom. 
> 
> I'm at http://pigeonstatueconundrum.tumblr.com/ if you feel like saying hi  
> xxx


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